Luyện nghe bài hát Writers Are A Funny Breed

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

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

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

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

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