Luyện nghe bài hát True Story Of What Was

The light blue flickering
Of the neighbor's big TV
Is on the ceiling
Of another spree

And outside open window
the drops of rain
History is writing a recipe
For earthly pain

Oh, to clean up the of echoes
Coming in and out of
Words spoken locusts
Sing and sing in my

And thing is, they seem
In my memory's dream
To be
To the true of what was

Real is
of what you try
To say
Or say

is real relentless
While words and dismay
Words change their tune
Though the story remains the

that fill me quickly
And are slow to drain
Dialogues dither down reminiscent
Of the way it likes to

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

Then in a flash, the light blue
a sudden black
Is sucked the vanishing point
And quiet back

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

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

Just a collection of
Conversations
Of the of marks we make
When we're trying to make a pen work

A lifetime of

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

I hereby
Whatever ever said
this sigh