Luyện nghe bài hát Writers Are A Funny Breed

It is very quiet still
I don't live here--I live the hill
On winter's afternoon
The distant sun--it slowly swings the around
This room on a golden chain


Frozen in since you went away
Walking through your rooms I your things
Fitting--these aren't fingers are wings
It April on your calendar
It's now--I wonder where you are
I hope it's warm and sunny--or cold and
As long as fine
Your house is as as mine
Crumpled papers like mine
one says "I'll write no more"
That one "don't lock the door"
Writers are a breed
I should
You said someday we're pure and high
We won't need to capture and
The things we see or see
let things be
Let be
when 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 of chalk
I want to do it right like you
And now I stand in your house
Everything's so
I wonder if write again
Or let be
Writers are a breed