Luyện nghe bài hát Writers Are A Funny Breed

It is very quiet here, so
I don't live here, I live down the hill on winter's afternoon
The sun, it slowly swings the room around
This hangs on a golden chain suspended, frozen
Frozen in since you went away

Walking through rooms, I thought your things fitting
These aren't fingers these are
It says on your calendar
It's now, I wonder where you are
I hope it's warm and sunny or cold and
As long as you're

Your is as tumble-down as mine
Crumpled everywhere like mine
one says, "I'll write no more"
That one says, "Don't the door"
Writers are a breed I should know

You said someday when we're and high
We need to capture and describe
The things we see or see
We'll let be
Let things be that's you'd leave

And is why I had to come today
My mad crumpled, crippled, fey
words from ledges that erode
From ledges I am not a
I am not a piece of chalk, I want to do it right like you

And now I stand here in house
Every thing's so
I wonder if write again or let things be
Writers are a breed