Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
Lyrkit press

Hello! I'm Lyrkit!

I tried many ways to memorize English words and found the most effective one for me!

We already have all the words of the songs that we have heard throughout our lives in our memory. We simply did not pay attention to them, but we all already hear them!

I noticed that when you learn a new word from a song that you have already heard before, you already know the translation of this word forever and you will never forget it!

I want to share this method with you. So, the scheme is as follows.

We find songs that we have already heard.

We add all unfamiliar words from them.

We pass mini tests of memory games. done

Now that you know a lot of words, you will very quickly come to know the whole language!

I bet you'll be surprised how effective this method is!)

next

skip
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

Or rate me in Windows Store:


And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
The Beautiful South

Pockets

 

Pockets

(album: Quench - 1998)


Here comes Pockets
His trousers hold a thousand deadly sins
The maddest things we ever found in bins
He clutches them and looks at you and grins

Here comes Pockets
The children wary of what they may contain
The linen may have changed, the contents same
A trouser-treasure island with no name

And socially at the platform that the timetable forgot
Picking up used tickets in a station of have-nots
When you're on that train of thought
You pass some pretty funky stops
When you're on that train of thought
You pass some pretty funky stops
That's the Pocket, let him be
That's the Pocket, let him be

Here comes Pockets
Picking up the things we cannot see
A bicycle, a dame, a Christmas tree
Things of no value to you or me

Here comes Pockets
Reduced through history to just a crawl
History turns the tall into the small
But natural born trawlers love to trawl

And the guitar of his dreams hangs upon some wall
Or laying underneath the staircase in a hall
We can carry dreams but we can't hold them all
That's why we learn the Blues before we actually fall
That's the Pocket, let him be
That's the Pocket, let him be

And he's clinging on to hope
Like the oak tree to the gale
'Cause finding one love letter in a sky high jumble sale
Is one single reason, why the Pocket will not fail

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?