Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

We held on the last night on earth.
Our mouths filled with dust, we in the fields and under trees,
like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated
along the of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road into the sea
and the shattered lay,
and the bitter smell of was on you like a disease.
In our of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and them into shapes
of stars wore like an antique wedding dress.
The of the past broke the hearts of the unborn
as the ferris silently slowed to a stop.
The few skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked
if you accompany me in a quick fall,
but you made me that my ticket wasn't good for two.
I alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with beauty,
bitter elegies of and eloquence.
Of and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun was stagnated beyond the rim of the horizon
and the is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and slowly outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation
the earth like a message.

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