Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

We hands on the last night on earth.
Our mouths filled dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees,
like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was empty on the of town but we knew everyone floated
the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the curved into the sea
and the shattered lay,
and the bitter of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and them into shapes
of stars that like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the
as the ferris silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the and asked
if you would me in a quick fall,
but you made me realize that my wasn't good for two.
I alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with beauty,
bitter of savagery and eloquence.
Of and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere the rim of the horizon
and the is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted outward,
and somewhere in the we found salvation scratched
the earth like a message.

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