Luyện nghe bài hát Writers Are A Funny Breed

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

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

Your house is as as mine
Crumpled papers like mine
This one says, "I'll no more"
That one says, "Don't the door"
Writers are a breed I should know

You someday when we're pure and high
We won't to capture and describe
The we see or don't see
We'll let be
Let be that's when you'd leave

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

And now I stand in your house
thing's so still
I wonder if I'll again or let things be
are a funny breed