Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

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

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