Luyện nghe bài hát Burning Season

I'm of the sight of some snot-nosed kid
a swathe through the age of deconstruction
Picking at the of the dying beast
And winning all the for imagination
I don't know what we've got to
But I see the statues to fall
The turning, the moon is high

Ch: What the hell are we waiting
I see the smoke on the horizon
I smell the fires of the season
What the hell are we waiting

I'm of the ironies piled up high
In this sneery culture with its knowing
I'm sick of the sermons from the of Unbelief
All fat, empty and
The emperor's out naked again
I can't believe we're playing this tired old game
Let's get out there and cut him

Ch: What the hell are we for? . .

On a yellow sunset, I'm sitting at the wheel
As the traffic crawls by on the
Bumper to bumper, nowhere to nowhere into the next
I see you in a sea of rage
go back and get the ones who put you down here
The jammed up with disinformation
And the anaesthetic are selling by the million

Ch: What the fuck are we waiting here . .