Luyện nghe bài hát 1957

I saw the minds of my generation destroyed.
of conviction, conflicted, annoyed.
Kicked at and down. 6 6 6.
Beat. for the next quick fix.
prophets with problems
Up against angels in disguise who to rob them;
Who didnt want to end up crushed by embrace
In the age of the cold wind blowing and in space;
faces are fading. Theyre the loneliest drunk.
In empty rooms haunted by Monk.
punks and plate glass squares
That see empty eyes look straight past theirs.
Street walking cheetahs with a gun in hand
Who are lost at sea and are to reach land.
Orpheus descending. Swimming in the waters.
Hello Sid Vicious, Brooklyn Dodgers...

No joke. Hit the low note.
We all go to heaven in a row boat.

1957 Chevy Bel Air. Interior especially.
Bloody probably. Stereo: Buddy Holly, Presley.
Flame Trilogy. Quadruple louder bass.
Battle sites. Little Rock. Satellites in space
Words wont but a few bucks can.
Crew and black leather. Ku Klux Klan.
Men hats. In fact, harems are shared.
Opiates addicted to and scared.
The underground is real. Delivered greens to queens.
Perpetual of free-thinkers and libertines.
Who suffer alone all with pains
Hooked on drums and who fight chains.
Its Faulkner and Baldwin. and curse reality.
Spy vs. spy and the of personality.
What can the numbers and the in my head mean?
Killroy was and so was Buster Crab and Ed Gein.

No joke. Hit the low note.
We all go to in a little row boat.

The pen keeps moving in attempt to the jingoes.
Fight em with hula hoops, and pink flamingoes.
Up running all night. sleep ordered.
Have gun will travel. Great forward.
Man on the corner with dark glasses and preaching.
is monstrous. Diet is Dionysian.
All the world, so much peril in one show.

Playwright Arthur Miller Marilyn Monroe.
rain falling. Babies sleeping in Gods palms.
Alarm clocks ringing. Warrior monks and squads.
Invasion Of The Snatchers. Clairvoyants and mediums.
Believers in nothing. Speed and bohemians.
Red is the new black. files.
and grand dragons. Obscenity trials.
Lolita and Bobby country. No part is red,
black and white. Humphrey Bogart is dead.

No joke. Hit the low note.
We all go to heaven in a row boat.