Eight Line Poem

歌词

The tactful cactus by your window

Surveys the prairie of your room

The mobile spins to its collision

Clara puts her head between her paws

They've opened shops down West side

Will all the cacti find a home

But the key to the city

Is in the sun that pins the branches to the sky

练弹唱?用 免费人声分离工具 把原曲人声消掉,做成跟弹伴奏 - 音频不离开你的设备。