Luyện nghe bài hát Cecilia And The Silhouette Saloon

murder = out.
= birth blouse.
mirror = glass spouse.
oil = sex paint.
= water saint.
Death decodes the from our hands.
= noise nest.
TV = test.
mirror = gun kiss.
= birth bait.
murder = fate.
death distills the from our dance.
death inverts the red romance.
Death the angels of chance.
death; the mirror of infants.
a picture hiding beneath the digital Avalanche.
When cecilia's grave like a dirt cacoon,
she up a stool at the silhouette saloon.
The player piano crippled jigs,
black widows victimless wigs.
When cecilia's throat slit like a set of lips
she drooled braille bibles onto the bed spread,
like an egg whose yoke defies child hips.
a ghost who fears all of the deceased and dead.
(time eats the flesh and spits out the like a useless wishbone.)
But that spinning around her neck,
whose hearth heats a valentine,
you know the trail leads way to a muted grave.
is his voice now?
A tone in the flutter of drunken wings,
Where is his cheek now,
A face unraveled in shadow, veiled in laughter.
are those sex ripened lips,
his print still warm on several necks.
Where is now?

= white out.
cancer = blouse.
= perfect glass spouse.
oil = sex paint.
shower = saint.
Death decodes the from our hands.
skull = nest.
TV = test.
mirror = gun kiss.
= birth bait.
murder = fate.
distills the camouflage from our dance.
death the red from romance.
x-rays the angels of chance.
death; the mirror of infants.
Like a picture hiding beneath the Avalanche.