Luyện nghe bài hát The Siren Song

(Hammill)

Letters in pencil, some of as heavy as lead,
as as carbon, as black as coal, but burning as red.
faintly stencilled: the message, though leeched, is unbled,
as secret as - as young, as old, as living, as dead.
And always that
that comes as though it's from
though I'm to the mast
it hammers round my brain.

in the backbone,
laughter wise,
that same laughter that
every time I flash on that look in your
which of a black zone
which'll all my credos as lies,
where all logic is
and time will smash theory I devise.
And the is shattered
by the magic of your touch
where really matters....
No, Nothing matters much!

So the song runs through the ages,
and it courses through my veins like
and all the sweet kisses of addiction
it's calling me to my bonds again.

Future exploding like shrapnel,
splinters escape on my tongue,
some of scar comprehension...
beneath the scab they burn, but the wound numb.
And always the song me forward,
rejoicing in the and the prayer,
bored all but the mad, the strange,
the freak, the dare.
your laugh chills my marrow
till I it on my knees....
Oh, the mast becomes a flagpole,
becomes of me?

What becomes, oh, what of me?