Luyện nghe bài hát True Story Of What Was

The light flickering rhythm
Of the big console TV
Is on the ceiling
Of another spree

And outside sleep's open
the drops of rain
History is a recipe book
For earthly pain

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

And thing is, they often
In my memory's long
To be
To the story of what was

Real is
of what you try
To say
Or say

Real is relentless
While distract and dismay
Words that change tune
Though the remains the same

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

Every screen, a smoke
Oh, to
Just for a moment, the
Outside the

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

To for the downbeat
In a symphony
To in the darkness
For someone who like me

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

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

A lifetime of

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

I amend
Whatever ever said
this sigh