Luyện nghe bài hát The Trouble With Poets

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

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

The trouble you,
is you me nuts!
I can not what's 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 it's only trouble.
I it's makes us real.
But I that piece of mind were something I could steal!

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

I think the trouble with is they'll see poetry everywhere!

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

The with time
is time don't go back.

Maybe that trouble's just
you and me.

I'm so scared this
law fade 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 don't I that trouble makes us real!

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

Not even poets
how we
feel!

The trouble with is they talk
they
they to much!

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

talk to much!