Luyện nghe bài hát Tiny Streams

Morning sun the day
Mothers child has gone
Locked inside the game that they him all to play
Closet city pretty tired from the day
And if he the tiny porch light dim
keep the dogs at bay
Snotty little he plays
Never puts his toys
Breaks the ones he's if they don't sparkle anymore
dollies in the kissing
All their little heads are
Chop their hands with this thing
That's what daddy bought for
Red and turned blue today
I laugh to dry the tear
in my ceilings face
This boiling rainbow webbing
Smiles soft anger shapes
Of mouths and in sonic scapes
spanning psychic burning
Black record turning
Pools of vision,
Forms absorb to keep from
Climb the walls, half them
side, air is thin there
Friends inside me to them
Cannot keep laughing, laughing
Ripples from the portholes contact
Center bending
Growing echoes of each
Float reflections of this covered
Inside eggshell
Masterpieces not well spoken
Yet undertaken
Tiny of orchestration
Flow into this fisheye car
Leaning close to catch his good
Tiny streams of