Luyện nghe bài hát This Is A Fire Door Never Leave Open

Headlights towards the corner of the dining room.
Half illuminate a before they disappear.
You breathe in forty years of failing to a feeling.
I breathe out smoke against the window, trace the in your name.
Our letters the same;
full of all our changing that isn't at all.
All straight circle sometime.
You said "Somewhere a box full of replacement parts
to all the tenderness we've or let rust away.
sympathy is more than just a way of leaving.
Somewhere someone says sorry.'
making plans to stay."
So me it's okay.
me anything, or show me there's a pull,
unassailable, will lead you there,
from the dark, alone, benevolence that never known,
or you knew you were four and can't remember.
Where a small knife tears out those seams,
and the knows what you silence means,
and your metaphors (as as you can make them)
are linked, days, together.
I hear trains at night, when the wind is right.
I everything, lick
and thread this string that will mend you
or tailor more a memory of a kitchen floor,
or the fire-door we kept propping open.
And I this place; the enormous sky,
and the faces, that I'm haunted by,
so why can't I these buildings,
frameworks labeled "Home"?