Luyện nghe bài hát The Party

The fire-breathing rebels at the party early
Their khaki are hung in the closet near the fur
Asking handouts from the ladies, while criticize the Lords
Boasting of the of the very hands that pour
And the victims to giggle, for at least they are not bored

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

The is enormous, she fills the room with perfume
She meets the and smothers them with greetings.
And she asks, "How are you" and she offers them a
The countess of the social grace, who never seems to
And she to talk to you if you promise not to think

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

The beauty of the is blazing in the present
She surrounds herself with who would surrender
Floating in her flattery, she's a trophy-prize,
Protected by a face, sometimes cursed, sometimes blessed
And she's staring their desires
While they're staring her dress

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

The egos shine like light bulbs, so you cannot see them
each other blinder than a sandbox
All the of an argument, holding back their yawns
A challenge the chandeliers, the selfish swords are drawn
To the go the hangups, to the victor go the hangers on

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled the rug and retuned my piano

They travel to the table, the host is for supper
And they each other down for salt and pepper
And the conversation sparkles as their wits are dipped in
Dinosaurs on a diet, on each other they will
Then they pick their teeth and they squelch a saying
"Darling, you divine"

And my had to shrug
As I beneath the rug and retuned my piano

The is waiting, she hides behind composure, composure
She'd love to and prays that no one asks her
Then she steals a glance at lovers while her fingers her hair
And she marvels at the confidence of who hide their fears
Then her eyes are closed as she rides with a foreign legionnaire

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

is reeling, counting notches on his thighbone
Searching for one hundred and
And he's as a child as he leads you to his web
queens and gypsy girls in the boudoir of his head
Then he wraps himself a tablecloth and pretends he is a bed

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and retuned my

Oh, the must be over, even the losers are leaving
But just one doubt is nagging at my caustic
So I snuck up close behind me and I myself a kiss
And I led myself to the mirror to expose I had missed
There I saw a laughing maniac who was writing songs like

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled beneath the rug and retuned my