Luyện nghe bài hát A Strychnine Kiss

Cut cathedrals
slash in the air
so it is raining
we kneel down in prayer.
And Christ and laughs. . .
Christ! He's shaking his
cos the wine's
and the bread's bread . . .
No trance, no substance, no conscience for
as the licks a jackboot and lays down the law.
And his flock a cross--
all fall down disease.
And the only
are him and his priests.
In them seven hills
a big crock of gold,
but it's all stashed in
and to a Pole.
And any language,
he's got to sell,
but if you add it up,
it's a to hell.