Luyện nghe bài hát Consequence of Sounds

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

The consonants and
The of sounds
The consonants and
The of sounds

Got a in my mind,
All the time.
Screamin' too much beat up
And don't even rhyme,
They just there, on a street corner,
tucked in
And side out and shot,
And I'd like to them down
But there no knob.
Run into picket
Not into lines.
All hippie-shit for the 60's
And clich for our time. But,
But a one of these days heart
Will stop ticking,
And they sorta just don't find you till cubicle is reeking.

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

Did you know that the gravedigger's
Gettin' in the machine
Even it's a whole 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 were gone?
Just one song is done
always another one,
Waiting right the bend,
Till one ends,
it begins
Sqeaky clean, it starts all over 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 bleeding and heard hollow coughing and
National Geographic was 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 they will save us but want to enslave us.
And sweating like demons they scream 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 profits are silent then rotting away

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

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

The consonants and
The of sounds
The and vowels
The of sounds