Luyện nghe bài hát The Good times Used To Kill Me

In the long hot summer
And in the cold winter days
In the clear of the early morning
And in the late night drunken
I keep on seeing in the corner of my eye

Like guy in an old baggy T-shirt
Smiling like he grasped that
the rest of us didn't understand
The way he will stand completely
While the people just on by

The girl on a bike, on her way home
The girl in a car talking on her
The phone girl does not see the bike and hits her
And the bike girl a sickening sound
As she hits the street and the scream

And the sad man is
jawed in line for potato, sifting through his pockets
Coming up old bus tickets and grocery store
Droopy and baggy black jeans
his first time in Oslo

A boy on one of those cruiser bikes
Is checking his bed head in window
While he talks to beautiful
something about the wine and Portugal

And the wild man is the way
Of a doing his spasmodic dance
As he screams, Take a dump in my
a dump in my head

We all come home to empty
It doesn't matter if anyone's or not
And we all come home to chock heads
It doesn't matter we do or what we got

We all come home to that voice
That keeps on
And we try to it out
But it keeps on
Keeps on going like a

The times used to kill me
The good times to kill me
But now I am good at time
Yeah, the times used to kill me
Now I am good at time