Luyện nghe bài hát Burning Old Stories

With hands make a fist and take down,
With one desperate hit you're building and shaping the hate you feel.
You're scratching out you're burning old stories,
years of bearing the cross six months away.

A has lost the youngest of three ungrateful unworthy of any pride,
It's not what you have love just what you lack.
Give up this act it a rest,
It's time to come home it's time to move back cause' I know not waiting on me.

I hope you think that I'm letting go,
So I at myself and ask what good would come from this shell,
But I can't say if any at all from here on out there's no point on
On the fact that you put these conditions on a that we had both given up.