Luyện nghe bài hát Confessions of the Rich Young Ruler

Feel like a stranger in a land
Twenty-something and depressed, it isn't what I had planned
Can't stand all the brands and the
While the Logos is a no-go—no, the
sell, not too well
Tell me why I'm fetching books from the self-help of hell

(And bell's like a death knell)

for the modern world
Everybody selling something, got to yourself to get the girl
Look at me, look at me, my C.V.
Are you a Mac or a PC?
So take it easy on the of Assisi
Don't really see the point if it don't me

Listless at
What if I don't merry? Bit scary to think
I can't evolve 'cause I can't solve the link
Spilling ink I'm on the brink—jump and sink
Where's God? Are my ears so that the Word's unheard?
Nah, He doesn't even

Misty from the issues for tissues
Refugees, shootings, and the planet that we misuse
And the sick news continues ever-new venues
What's on the menu?
If I retreat from all your and tweets, would that offend you?
Don't really care what you share about the out there if you're blind to the demons within you

of a blessed twenty-something who's depressed
Took my heart to God—where's my rest?
Just to be honest like the Psalmist
I'm not the flyest guy, I'm not the
Promised joy, but I'm
You can call me Jacob's ladder 'cause I'm up and down, smile and
Pound for pound, no match for Old Scratch when he's

I thought the truth hurt you
Then I took the red and I read After Virtue
Don't to be a grump, dumping words, in a slump
Modern thought got more fluff the hair on Donald Trump
And the come and go
Talking
But they mean the turtle, and I don't know
I don't know

Excuse my losing storylines
Eternal sunshine of the plotless whine—hope you mind
My sound and fury not as purely stirring as the
But existential is soarin' high as Kierkegaard's
Used to feel I had a trail, now I
How can I wrestle God if He doesn't push

Feel like a in a strange land
Twenty-something and depressed, guess it isn't I had planned
Can't stand all the brands and the
While the Logos is a no-go—no, the
sell, not too well
Tell me why I'm fetching books from the section of hell

(And every bell's like a knell)