Luyện nghe bài hát A Map of All Our Failures

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

Frost the tall windows
I have cold for a long time
Borne upon shoulders

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

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

And drained of motion, the air avoids me
And void of notion, to perceive
Mouth barely open, fearing to breathe
And there is no sound at all

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