Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

Eighty years, an old now, sitting on the front porch
Watching the clouds by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of long ago,
When she used color carelessly, his portrait
A times, or maybe just his smile,
Her and her canvas would follow him he would go

'Cause they were painters and were painting themselves
A world

Oil daisies covered the living room walls
He put colored roses in her hair
He said, "Love, I you,
I to give you the mountains, the sunshine,
The too
I want to give you a world as as you are to me"

'Cause I'm a painter and I to paint you
A way

So they sat and made a drawing of their love,
They made it an art to by
They painted every passion, every home, every beautiful child
In the winter they were of warmth,
In the summer they carpenters of love
They thought blue prints were too sad so they made yellow

And they painters and they had painted themselves
A world

Until one day the rain fell as as black oil
And in her heart she knew something was
She running through the orchard screaming,
"No God, don't take him me!"
But by the time she got there, she he already had gone
She got to where he lay, colored roses in his hands for her
She threw them screaming, "Damn you man, don't leave me
nothing left behind but these cold paintings, these cold portraits
To me!"

He said, "Love I only leave a little, try to
I put my soul in this we've created with these four hands
Love, I leave, but only a little, this holds me still
My may die now, but these paintings are real"
La li lai la li lai la li lai

So many seasons came and seasons went
And many times she saw her love's watering the flowers,
Talking to the and singing to his children,
And the wind blew, she knew he was listening,
And how he seemed to laugh along, and how he to hold her
When she was

'Cause were painters and they had painted themselves
A world

Eighty years, an old now, sitting on the front porch
Watching the roll by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of long ago,
When she used color carelessly, painted his
A times, or maybe just his smile,
Her and her would follow him wherever he would go
Yes, she and her canvas follow

'Cause they are painters and they are painting
A
'Cause they are and they are painting themselves
A world