Luyện nghe bài hát A Map of All Our Failures

I'm of a response
From my dark red soul
Too deep to be spoken
I bury a word right in my

Frost the tall windows
I been cold for a long time
Borne upon winters

There are wolves here, many of
I am staggered at their of me

I lie in fear
I call the moths to me
I forget the form of my

And drained of motion, the air itself me
And void of notion, to perceive
barely open, almost fearing to breathe
And is no other sound at all

there, to the left, his shadow rose
I always he was coming
Takes the vacant beside me
With golden hands he moved the hair my face