Luyện nghe bài hát Consequence of Sounds

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

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

Got a in my mind,
All the time.
Screamin' from too beat up
And don't even rhyme,
They stand there, on a street corner,
Skin in
And side out and shot,
And I'd to turn them down
But ain't no knob.
Run picket fences
Not picket lines.
All this hippie-shit for the
And another for our time. But,
But a one of these days your
Will stop ticking,
And they sorta just don't find you till cubicle is reeking.

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

Did you that the gravedigger's still
Gettin' stuck in the
Even tough it's a whole daydream.
It's another town another world,
Where the are asleep, where the loans are paid
And the are mowed.
think?
All the gravediggers were
cause one song is done
There's another one,
Waiting around the bend,
Till one ends,
Then it
Sqeaky clean, then it all over again.

The weather keeps 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 right next to her
She noticed some 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 those freaks on the TV,
Who claim will save us but want to enslave us.
And sweating like demons scream through our speakers
But we leave the on 'cause silence is harder.
And no the killer and no one's the martyr
The world has made us can no longer contain us
And profits are silent rotting away 'cause

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

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

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