Luyện nghe bài hát Consequence of Sounds

My rhyme ain't good yet,
My and tongue just met,
And they friends, so far,
My don't travel far,
They in my hair,
And to go nowhere,
They grow back inside,
past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach
Where they serve much use,
No calories,
values.
And I absorb in
The right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my

The and vowels
The consequence of
The consonants and
The consequence of

Got a in my mind,
All the time.
from too much beat up
And don't even rhyme,
They just stand there, on a corner,
tucked in
And meat out and shot,
And I'd like to them down
But there no knob.
Run picket fences
Not picket lines.
All this for the 60's
And another for our time. But,
But a one of days your heart
Will stop ticking,
And they just don't find you till your cubicle is reeking.

The and vowels
The consequence of
The and vowels
The of sounds
Ahh ah ah ah ahh ah ah ah

Did you know that the gravedigger's
Gettin' stuck in the
Even tough it's a other daydream.
It's another town another world,
Where the kids are asleep, where the loans are
And the are mowed.
Whad'ya
All the gravediggers were
Just one song is done
There's always one,
right around the bend,
Till one ends,
it begins
Sqeaky clean, then it starts all again.

The weather report on
and turning,
and warning,
And and warning of,
Possibly it could be publications and,
it could be news TV stations. That
Very same morning next to her coffee
She noticed some bleeding and heard coughing and
Geographic was being too graphic,
When all she had wanted to know was the
"The got a nosebleed" it said
"And flooding but we keep on cutting
The and the forests!"
And we keep on paying those on the TV,
Who claim they will save us but want to us.
And sweating like demons scream through our speakers
But we leave the sound on silence is harder.
And no one's the and no one's the martyr
The world has made us can no longer contain us
And are silent then rotting away 'cause

The and vowels
The of sounds.
The consonants and
The of sounds.
Ah ah ah...

My rhyme ain't good yet,
My brain and tongue met,
And aint friends, so far,
My don't travel far,
They in my hair,
And to go nowhere,
They right back inside,
Right past my and eyes
Into my stomach
they don't serve much use,
No calories,
values.
And I absorb in
The words through my skin
They sit there festering my bowels

The consonants and
The consequence of
The and vowels
The consequence of