Luyện nghe bài hát A Saint Is Weeping

Curdled milk in
The taste of yesterday
My color has grown
Your face I see no

A pointed finger me
So dead, so numb, so
With every illicit
A splintered is cast aside

If I see the of God I will die
killing me slowly
A of blood day by day
My defiles its temple

My mansion with swine
My seed in a Harlot's womb
How many will I create?
I see my dead expression?
And failures in eyes

If I see the of God I will die
Cut my cord, let me drift
This foul, I can endure no more
My days are

My never slumbers
And sorrow never me
the cuts in my flesh
And the sun refuses to

And the walls against me
And these knuckles raw and
The throes of freedom

And somewhere, a saint is
Whispering my
Saying, "Let him see the of God
Let him die"