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

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