Luyện nghe bài hát Bottoms Up, Socrates

They came marchin' down the in robes
In the spirit of the Inquisition
Guitars and
monkeys make good musicians

Streets urchins, the smugglers and
Dead and living man's lingoes
Put the of the saint in a glass box
And him around the block

Hangin' on the of a madman
in the abyss
No use for the
the hopeless seek no bliss

Mason of petroleum
You know those kids play
And you ever get a hold of them
tell you exactly what they'll say

Time we told you son the family curse
And when they up the diary
To gain an
find only terminal verse

Hangin' on the words of a
Islands in the
No use for the
When the hopeless no bliss

visions, eye in the sky
And the naked led by the blind
So up, Socrates
Hemlock up goes down easy

on the words of a madman
Islands in the
No use for the
When the hopeless no bliss

visions, eye in the sky
And the naked led by the blind
So Bottoms up,
Hemlock tastes like ripple

visions, eye in the sky
the being led by the blind
So up, Socrates
straight up goes down easy