Luyện nghe bài hát A Feast Of Friends

Wow, I'm sick of
Live in the of certain

bindings.
The servants the power
dog-men and their mean
pulling poor blankets
our

I'm of dour faces
Staring at me the TV
Tower, I want in
my garden bower;
Royal babies,
must now aborted
in the mud
These mutants,
for the that's plowed.

They are to take us into
the severed
Do you know how pale and thrillful
comes death on a strange
unannounced, for
like a scaring guest you've
to bed
Death makes of us all
and us wings
we had shoulders
smooth as

No more money, no more dress
This other seems by far the best
until it's other jaw incest
and obedience to a vegetable law.

I not go
Prefer a of Friends
To the Family.