Luyện nghe bài hát True Story Of What Was

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

And sleep's open window
the drops of rain
History is writing a recipe
For every earthly

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

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

Real is
Regardless of you try
To say
Or say

Real is relentless
While words and dismay
Words change their tune
the story remains the same

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

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

Then in a flash, the blue horizon
a sudden black
Is into the vanishing point
And rushes back

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

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

a collection of recollections
Conversations
Of the kind of marks we
When we're trying to a pen work again

A of them

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

I amend
Whatever I've said
this sigh