Luyện nghe bài hát Two

In the middle of the night I was sitting up,
when a doctor to tell me, "Enough is enough."

He brought me out into the (I could have sworn it was haunted),
and told me something that I didn't know that I to hear:
there was nothing that I could do to save you,
the choir's gonna sing, and this thing is gonna you.
Something in my throat my next words shake,
and something in the wires made the light break.
There was glass inside my and raining down from the ceiling,
it opened up the scars that had just healing.
It tore apart the canyon down your femur,
(I thought it was beautiful, it made me a believer.)
And as it I could hear you howling from your room,
but I hid out in the hall until the blew.
When I reappeared and to give you something for the pain,
you to hating me again and just sang your refrain:

You had a new dream, it was more a nightmare.
You were a little kid, and they cut your hair,
then they stuck you in machines, you so close to dying.
They should have listened, they thought that you lying.
Daddy was an asshole, he you up, built the gears in your head,
now he greases them up. And no one paid attention you just stopped eating. "Eighty-seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating.

Tell me when you think we became so unhappy,
wearing rings with nobody clapping.
When we moved here together we so disappointed,
sleeping out of tune our dreams disjointed.
It killed me to see you getting rejected,
but I didn't mind the things you threw, the I deflected.
I mind you blaming me for your mistakes,
I just held you in the through all of the earthquakes.
But you packed up your clothes in bag every night,
and I try to grab your ankles (what a pitiful sight.)
But after over a year, I stopped trying to you from stomping out that door,
coming back like you do. Well no one's gonna fix it for us, no one can.
You say that, 'No gonna listen, and no one understands.'

So there's no open doors and no way to get through,
there's no other witnesses, us two.

There's two living in one small room,
your two half-families tearing at you,
two ways to the story (no one worries),
two silver on our fingers in a hurry,
two people talking your brain,
two people believing I'm the one to blame,
two different voices coming out of mouth,
while I'm too cold to care and too to shout.

You had a new dream, it was more a nightmare.
You were a little kid, and they cut your hair,
then they stuck you in machines, you so close to dying.
They should have listened, they thought that you lying.
Daddy was an asshole, he fucked you up, built the gears in head,
now he greases them up. And no one paid attention you just stopped eating. "Eighty-seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating.