Luyện nghe bài hát The Greatest Living Englishman

Here we are then, we are
from a suicide
And he will never be
The Greatest Englishman

It's a melancholy blue
Or a grey of no
Plastic surfaces
A space to place his
As passed from A to B

But it's such a melancholy
The curtains the bed are drawn
voices from the ward
The humming of machines
But are distances between

Yes there are distances

His aspirations him nightly
And amounted to so
Too self in his writing
Now he will never, be
The Greatest Living

The engine shifts into second
They're all aboard, for
It's a journey he must make
The sheep boy is leaving home

It's been rehearsed a thousand times or
He's well of that he's sure
But it's such a melancholy blue
As he a page of history
as he'd intended to

He speak or show you he was happy
Though you'd meet him with eyes
There was a wall that always stood you
He'd shut himself

And the love that he
Would never be
For him to alive
and tender
He'd shut himself

Not a fake or a
But dug in and fighting
The could not embrace a man
With so self in his writing

And he was gonna be
The Greatest Englishman
He had ideas his station
virtues go unmentioned

Little England you fit a straightjacket
Hemmed by the genius of
He
To the world is not to the trace
Remove the shadow of the memory of your face

A of no significance