Luyện nghe bài hát The Trouble With Poets

The trouble with poets is they to much.
They tell us how it them,
and it hurts them a little more.

We can not
they make that part up!
We've stood in their shoes,
in skins,
in heads,
shorts.

The with you,
is you me nuts!
I can not tell that behind your smile.

Poet; give us somethin' to lift us up!
for tonight,
for a time,
for the of us all
for a while!

I know only trouble.
I know makes us real.
But I wish that of mind were something I could steal!

The with shoes is they come untied.
You might a fall down the stairs.
And a poet might along,
and say,
"Well that's like life."

I think the trouble with poets is see poetry everywhere!

I know,
It's trouble.
Here I am at the of the stairs;
Beggin' you please Mr.Poet for a few repairs!

The with time
is that don't go back.

Maybe that just with
you and me.

I'm so scared that
law will to black,
I push,
and I pull,
And I do to be free!

Oh love,
I and I struggle!

I know.
I it's just the deal.
And I know only trouble.
And I know that trouble makes us real!

And I know,
sometimes,
sometimes,
knows!
knows!

Not poets know
how we
feel!

The trouble with is they talk
talk
they to much!

Let us go then,
you and I,
as the evening is spread out the sky
a patient etherized
on a table!
They to much!

They to much!