Luyện nghe bài hát The Siren Song

(Hammill)

Letters in pencil, some of as heavy as lead,
as dated as carbon, as as coal, but burning as red.
Clues stencilled: the message, though leeched, is unbled,
as as marble - as young, as old, as living, as dead.
And always that
that comes as though it's pain:
I'm lashed to the mast
still it hammers my brain.

in the backbone,
laughter wise,
that same laughter that
every I flash on that look in your eyes
which whispers of a zone
which'll mock all my as lies,
where all is done
and will smash every theory I devise.
And the is shattered
only by the of your touch
where nothing matters....
No, matters very much!

So the siren runs through the ages,
and it courses through my veins champagne;
and with all the sweet of addiction
it's calling me to break my again.

Future memory exploding shrapnel,
some splinters on my tongue,
some of scar comprehension...
beneath the they burn, but the wound becomes numb.
And always the draws me forward,
rejoicing in the and the prayer,
with all but the mad, the strange,
the freak, the dare.
Still your laugh chills my
till I it on my knees....
Oh, when the mast a flagpole,
what of me?

What becomes, oh, what of me?