Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

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

'Cause they were painters and they painting themselves
A world

Oil daisies covered 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 want to you a world as beautiful as you are to me"

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

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

And they painters and they had painted themselves
A world

Until one day the rain as thick as black oil
And in her heart she something was wrong
She went running the orchard screaming,
"No God, don't him from me!"
But by the time she got there, she feared he had gone
She got to where he lay, water roses in his hands for her
She threw them 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 these four hands
Love, I leave, but only a little, this holds me still
My body may die now, but paintings are real"
La li lai la li lai la li lai

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

'Cause they were painters and they had themselves
A world

Eighty years, an old lady now, on the front porch
Watching the roll by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of long ago,
When she color carelessly, painted his portrait
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 and they are painting themselves
A
'Cause they are painters and they are painting
A world