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

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