Luyện nghe bài hát Consequence of Sounds

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

The and vowels
The consequence of
The and vowels
The of sounds

Got a in my mind,
All the time.
Screamin' from too beat up
And they don't 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 into lines.
All hippie-shit for the 60's
And another for our time. But,
But a one of these your heart
Will stop ticking,
And they sorta don't find you till your cubicle is reeking.

The consonants and
The of sounds
The consonants and
The of sounds
Ahh ah ah ah ahh ah ah ah

Did you know that the gravedigger's
stuck in the machine
Even it's a whole other daydream.
It's another town another world,
Where the are asleep, where the loans are paid
And the are mowed.
Whad'ya
All the gravediggers gone?
cause one song is done
There's always one,
Waiting around the bend,
Till one ends,
it begins
Sqeaky clean, then it all over again.

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

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

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

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