Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

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

'Cause they were painters and were painting themselves
A lovely

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

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

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

And they were painters and they had painted
A lovely

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

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

So many seasons and many seasons went
And many she saw her love's face 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 lady now, on the front porch
the clouds roll by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of times ago,
When she used color carelessly, painted his
A times, or maybe just his smile,
Her and her canvas would him wherever he would go
Yes, she and her still follow

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