Luyện nghe bài hát True Story Of What Was

The light blue flickering
Of the big console TV
Is basking on the
Of another insomniatic

And sleep's open window
Between the drops of
History is writing a book
For every pain

Oh, to up the clutter of echoes
in and out of focus
Words like locusts
and sing in my head

And thing is, they seem
In my long dream
To be
To the true story of was

Real is
of what you try
To say
Or say

Real is relentless
While words distract and
Words that their tune
Though the remains the same

Words that me quickly
And then are slow to
Dialogues that down reminiscent
Of the way it likes to

screen, a smoke screen
Oh, to
for a moment, the picture
Outside the

in a flash, the light blue horizon
Spanning a black
Is into the vanishing point
And quiet back

To search for the
In a tabla
To in the darkness
For someone who like me

I'm not really who I said I was
Or who I I'd be

Just a collection of
Conversations
Of the kind of we make
When we're to make a pen work again

A of them

I say to me, now here
I say to the
sing and sing to me sitting
Now on the front porch swing of my eyes

I hereby
I've ever said
With sigh