Luyện nghe bài hát Cecilia And The Silhouette Saloon

murder = out.
cancer = blouse.
= perfect glass spouse.
oil = sex paint.
shower = saint.
Death the howls 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.
the anti mirror of infants.
Like a hiding beneath the digital Avalanche.
When cecilia's grave cracked a dirt cacoon,
she pulled up a at the silhouette saloon.
The player mumbling crippled jigs,
widows knitting victimless wigs.
When cecilia's slit like a second set of lips
she drooled braille bibles onto the bed spread,
like an egg yoke defies child bearing hips.
Like a ghost who fears all of the and dead.
(time eats the and spits out the shadow like a useless wishbone.)
But that locket around her neck,
whose hearth a dead valentine,
you know the trail leads way to a muted grave.
Where is his voice
A dead tone in the of drunken wings,
is his blushed cheek now,
A face in shadow, veiled in blind laughter.
are those sex ripened lips,
his kiss print still on several necks.
is love now?

murder = out.
= birth blouse.
mirror = perfect spouse.
oil = sex paint.
= water saint.
Death decodes the howls our hands.
skull = nest.
TV = test.
= siamese gun kiss.
sugar = bait.
murder = fate.
distills the camouflage from our dance.
death the red from romance.
Death x-rays the of chance.
the anti mirror of infants.
Like a picture beneath the digital Avalanche.