Luyện nghe bài hát Writers Are A Funny Breed

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

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

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

You said someday when pure and high
We won't need to capture and
The things we see or see
We'll let be
Let things be when you'd leave

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

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