Luyện nghe bài hát Babelogue

I haven't fucked much with the
But fucked plenty with the future
the skin of silk are scars
From the splinters of and walls I've caressed

A stage is each bolt of wood
a, like a log of Helen, is my pleasure
I would measure the of a night by the way, by the way I
By the amount of piss and seed I could
the columns that nestled the P.A.

Some nights I'd surprise by skipping off
With a skirt of green net over
flat metallic circles which dazzled and flashed
The lights were violet and white
I had an veil, I can't bear to use it

the way my hair was cropped, I craved, craved covering
But now that my hair itself is a
And the scalp inside is a scalp of a
And a sleepy Comanche beneath this netting of skin

I up, I am lying peacefully
I am lying and my knees are open to the sun
I desire him and he is absolutely ready to me
In, in, in, in, in heart, I am a Moslem, in heart, I am an
In heart, I am Moslem, in heart, I'm an American and I have no guilt

I seek pleasure, I seek the nerves under skin
The narrow archway, the layers, the of ancient lettuce
We worship the flaw, the belly, the
The on the belly of an exquisite whore
He spared the and spoiled the rod
I have not sold to God