Luyện nghe bài hát May I Call You Beatrice

Just a little thought in the of the one
the sunburnt cheeks and the eyes to the ground
Making earwaxed tongue-tied gutter

Thinking of the lost rib, dialing the
the unthinkable, no one's home

And the eyes say, I don't we've met
I don't believe you've had the
I don't we've met

When the wind, when the wind, when the wind cold
And the eyes of the child old
When the erratic conga and falls
the faithful metronome
You can take me back to the

See her strain from the of the globe
Spinning around his assumptions, barefoot and lipped
He in his favourite chair, blowing his world

First she's Beatrice she's a pumpkin
Then she's a leaf in a book on his pantry shelf

When the wind, when the wind, when the blows cold
And the of the child grow old
When the erratic conga and falls
the faithful metronome
You can take me back to the

The head sees the hand play the ring in the pocket
And the head knows the hand knows the ring is as
As the tear-soaked in a room in another town

And the ring is heavy and so is the crown
Which she drags to the chair to keep the swelling down

When the wind, when the wind, when the wind cold
And the eyes of the grow old
When the erratic conga rises and
Above the faithful
You can take me back to the

the bird in the bush is worth two in the hand
And the empty cage the empty man
The bird keeps flying the orgoglian rising

And the phone keeps ringing and the phone ringing
And the keeps slipping and the phone
And the phone on ringing

And thinking about the one who got away
And he's thinking about the one who got
And he's thinking about the one who got
And he's thinking the one who got away

And he's and he's thinking
Whatchu