Luyện nghe bài hát Waste of Paint

I a friend, he is made mostly of pain
And he wakes up, drives to work, and then straight back again
He once cut one of my out of paper
Well, I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record
And I to tell him he had a sense
Of color and composition so

And he said, "Thank you, please but your
Is truly not becoming me, your are poor
You are blind, you see, no could have come from me
I am a of breath, of space, of time"

I a woman, she was dignified and true
And her love for her man was one of her many
Until one day, she found out he had lied
And she decided the of her life from that point on would be a lie
But she was grateful for everything had happens
And she was anxious for all would come next?

But she wept, what did you expect?
In that big, old house with the cars she
And "Such is life," she said
With one day her to the next
You get a little closer to your death, was fine with her
She never got upset and with all the days she may left
She would clean another mess or fold his shirts or look her best
She was to waste away alone

Last night, my brother, he got and drove
And cop, he pulled him off to the side of the road
And he said, "Officer, officer, you got the man
No, no, I'm a of medicine, a son of a banker
You understand"
The cop said, "No one got hurt, you should be
And your carelessness, it is something

And no, I can't let you go
And your father's name is known
Your decisions now are yours
You are nothing but a stepping
On a to debt, to loss, to shame"

The last few months I have been with this couple
Yeah, you know, the who buy everything in doubles
Oh, they fit together, a puzzle
And I love love and I am thankful
That someone actually receives the prize that was
By all those fairy tales drugged us

And still do me, I'm sick, lonely
No laurel tree, just envy
my number come up eventually?
Like is some kind of lottery
you scratch and see what's underneath
It's 'sorry, one cherry', 'play again', 'get lucky'

So I have been hanging out by the trains depot
No, I don't ride, I just sit and the people there
And they remind me of up cars in motion
The way they spin and and jockey for positions
And I want to scream out it all is nonsense
All your live's one track, can't see it's pointless?
But then, my give under me

My head feels and suddenly it is clear to see
It is not but me, who has lost my self-identity
As I hide behind books I read, while scribbling my poetry
Like art could save a wretch me
With some ideology that no one could hope to achieve
And I am never real, it is a sketch in me
And everything I made is trite and cheap and a
Of paint, of tape, of

So now I my car down by the cathedral
Where the floodlights up at the steeples
Choir practice was up with people
Could hear the sound as an echo
Sloping off the ceiling at an
And when the blend they sound like angels
I hope some room still in the middle
But when I lift my voice up now to them
The range is too high, way up in

And so I my tongue, forget the song
Tie my shoe, walking off
And try to keep moving on
With my broken heart and my God
And I have no but it is all I want
To be and believe in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my