Luyện nghe bài hát The Surgeon And The Scientist

Don't this an art project.
This is science, is progress.
And don't pretend these are words, we are
dressed as surgeons but disturbed by the sight of our scars.
And now we carry scalpels to the scarring resting somewhere
On the line between my house, heart and into your home.
Where you lay sleeping a ceiling fan in winter,
Gently turning as the wind reaches it's fingers through the
Just to hold you, I held you.
Pressed like a rose between my or like stones
I keep in pockets to weigh me underwater.

These scars fade away but never disappear, my dear.
We'll raise our fists like lightning to to god and
If he us down,
Then he us down.
But first, let him hear us
We are like the legacy of thunderstorms we watched and swore in doorways, "we will never be the again."

I can you healing and I hate it,
(Like a harpist without hands you only the strings
You to love to touch so much)
To hear the dissonance drain violently and then
all the songs I sang but never once could make you smile.
My god, I would to make you smile.
And reach out to my hands, and frail,
To make good on the love that you still exists, and still thrives
Though we've our bodies in blood (and old lies,
Like, "I'm fine" and "you so much better than him"
But trust the surgeon with your heart,
drunk and sips from poison cups, and
Don't you the scientist,
He "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink
secrets
All your dress and says:

"my dear, I must confess, I never thought you ever knew love was like for real.