Luyện nghe bài hát A Map of All Our Failures

I'm unaware of a
From my dark red soul
Too to be spoken aloud
I a word right in my heart

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

There are here, many of them
I am staggered at hatred of me

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

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

Just there, to the left, his shadow
I knew he was coming
Takes the vacant chair me
With golden hands he the hair from my face