Luyện nghe bài hát 1957

I saw the best minds of my destroyed.
of conviction, conflicted, annoyed.
Kicked at and down. 6 6 6.
Beat. Looking for the quick fix.
Unpopular prophets problems
Up against angels in disguise who to rob them;
Who didnt want to end up by gods embrace
In the age of the cold wind and dogs in space;
Whos faces are fading. Theyre the drunk.
In empty rooms haunted by Monk.
Felonious punks and plate squares
That see empty that look straight past theirs.
Street walking cheetahs with a gun in each
Who are at sea and are desperate to reach land.
Orpheus descending. in the crooked waters.
Hello Sid Vicious, goodbye Dodgers...

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

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

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

The pen keeps in attempt to sink the jingoes.
em with hula hoops, frisbees and pink flamingoes.
Up all night. Late sleep ordered.
Have gun travel. Great leap 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.
Hard rain falling. Babies in Gods palms.
Alarm ringing. Warrior monks and bomb squads.
Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. and mediums.
Believers in nothing. freaks and bohemians.
Red is the new black. files.
Rebels and grand dragons. trials.
Lolita and Fisher country. No part is red,
Just black and white. Bogart is dead.

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