Luyện nghe bài hát The Great Elsewhere

Talking, what's it for?
nothing.
Wrestle, wrestle.
You can pin me to anything.

I saw you in the seaweed.
Thought I saw you in a flame.
I'll fill up the silence the sound of your holy name.

Knowledge of the sea-ways, of how the water flows.
Whoever coined the phrase has never had to the snow.
I climbed the shroud to the top-sail and I through the glass.
The curvature bisected by the mizzen mast.

The upon my stomach, I call it my Flying V.
And every time I it, I can feel your eyes on me.
How many islands surrender to the blunderbuss?
And, how long must we sail before you show face to us?

him out to the end of the pier.
"Don't any closer," he cried, "I am afraid
Of the man become if I lay my
Life down for a that I don't even care for."
to his face, I put my
Hand his and I tried to tell him, "No,
I've seen his work upon the of cathedrals,
In the of the workers and the flight of the seagulls."

My words drowned out by the sound
Of the motors and rowers, the ship as it ran
And the trees came a thousand soldiers.
I went down on my knees a spear in my shoulder.
About face, about face, I swam
To the Victoria. I with the
Memory, memory of the dwellers
And the of the Storyteller.