Luyện nghe bài hát Tiny Streams

Morning sun the day
Mothers child has away
inside the game that they taught him all to play
Closet city sleeping pretty from the day
And if he leaves the tiny light dim
He'll the dogs at bay
Snotty little he plays
puts his toys away
Breaks the ones he's used if they don't sparkle
dollies in the kissing
All their little heads are
Chop their tiny hands with this
That's what daddy them for
Red and White's blue today
I laugh to dry the away
Sitting in my ceilings
This boiling rainbow place
Smiles anger feeling shapes
Of and hands in sonic scapes
spanning psychic burning
Black record turning
Pools of vision,
Forms to keep from laughing
Climb the walls, half them
side, air is thin there
Friends pull me to them
Cannot keep from laughing,
Ripples from the portholes making
bending circles
Growing echoes of each
Float of this covered consciousness
Inside this
Masterpieces scattered not spoken
Yet undertaken
streams of orchestration
Flow this fisheye car ride
close to catch his good side
Tiny of orchestration