Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Lotta Walls

Dialed up his Murs on the telephone
Gotta talk to somebody who can him what the hell is wrong
Brain freezing up, he don't know to do
But the people that him know that it ain't nothing new
Catch five rings, then an answering
Hang up on the beep, stare up the ceiling
Stood up to remember he slept fully-dressed
So he grabbed his and put a hat on his rat's nest
Stepped up to that big
Somebody said "Today's a good day to die."
But he never was a big fan of their work
So he starts up the walk by kicking in the dirt
A friend to the strangers, a to friends
He'll take a coffee and a pack of cigarettes when you have a
it. Paid up. The change, you can keep it
He's a sucker for the morning smile and cleavage
If you knew him better he'd ask for time
he's looking for a reservoire to empty his mind
And only so much he can put in a song
talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong

2X]
And this house has gotta walls
But only very few anything to you
And this house has lotta walls
But only very few mean to you

No value to titillate
Far shallow, so get it straight
Blacktop, sidewalk,and the
'cause life is and talk is cheap
And as he sits (as he sits) in his room
Following a tune, to consume
Carefully and analyzing the lyrics you use
Finally realizing that humility is a
Scared love don't make
If walls could speak, they would peep about the fake ones
Watching man, falling off of his plan-
Underachievin' so he can understand. (Crazy reverse speech.)

So, who did tattoos?
nice
And who built tabboos?
life
If he had a glass pipe, he would it and use it to slash his wrists
But someone already him to it
He would you a picture with his blood
A self-portrait, dramatic and
But the of you finding any appreciation are too slim-
Keeps his outlook
Tap his to the rhythm of original sin
Throw his balls to the wind trying to down these pins
He'll keep swinging from the above his chin
Till he finds his soul in the fifty bin
The price of the payphone
Fake smile he takes home one of his dates
He could write hate-poem for you to break
Or maybe calm and wait for that big earthquake
Still by the fire and the water
Still to honor this empire's daughter
Still answering you're afraid to ask
believing that God's gonna save his ass

If you knew him he'd ask for some time
'cause he's looking for a to empty his mind
And there's so much he can put in a song
Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him the hell is wrong