Luyện nghe bài hát Thirty

Thirty on a walnut,
Tiny inside the eye,
Tiny mind the tiny brain,
To see the sky.

Thirty birds a phone line,
Cherry on an old, bound Ford,
The hint of Deja vu on face,
And every crowd I to woo.

Ashes, ashes,
All down,
Hear moment,
Make song,
Dry on the ground.

Thirty odd years I've drifting,
Is there somewhere we meet?
'Cause I'm as a kitten,
I'm dirty as a mitten in a street.

Thirty walk from my front door,
If I don't now it's thirty-one,
And the old man his arms,
my shoulders and says,
"Let me you, son."

Ashes, ashes,
All down,
Hear moments,
their song,
They fall dry leaves,
On the ground.

The stars, they like to whisper,
been hoodwinked all along,
There is not a shred of here but,
Thirty on a walnut says you're wrong.
Buddha's says you're wrong.
I bet you a say's you're wrong.