Luyện nghe bài hát Creation or a stain

I got a god in my
me that I'm crazy
Got a god in my
Telling me I'm
An angry little god on my skull
Another god
Tells me I'm lazy
A useless piece of shit with no to give at all now
And the smallest god up
Thinks I'm the greatest
Tells me no one else could be as as me.
I listen to all, I was a disc jockey to consequences
Little propagandist selling
I build a I got to get away
A made out of wood and glue and crack and then some paint(????)
No one see ya down there and no getting in
I got a needle, a pack, a satchel, and a of country gin
I drink and shoot and smoke until the only voice I
Is the one me those other people, don't let anybody near
No let anybody near (x4)
And now the telephone is ringing, the are falling down
The city birds are singing, my soul's around
I have made a monster
I damned myself again
I have eaten all my children, I have up my skin
I'm a crucifixion, I'm a fucked-up memory
Consumed in all that's left, I'm my misery
I'm sucking on tit
She's me her pussy

I drink I'm convinced there's no place left to go
You there's no place left to go (x4)
So I until the pain is dry
I know it is
Sometimes though, I guess I that I'm the best
Until the morning after when I wake up the guilt
Of burning down all the things my hands have built
And throwing out all the you know I never felt
Yeah, you know I felt (x4)
Let's our tortured Romeo's
Personal can be unique
You bring it on
out when you might peak
The Holy Ghost is exiled from your heart and from soul
If you control it it's no fun, and if fun you've lost control
Your past is
your symbols dried up
corruption's as confused
As old lovers you dug
Like hidden toxic fume
Your dissipates
In the ozone of acts with motive
All the you hate
bodies dancing, crazed
Sexual
in an orgy
The way people eat
Regrets overwhelms, and tired bodies fall
Bankrupt from the
Let's split one more
Blue as beggars, beaten,
Tired eyes made of
And we all know when it gets like this there's no one you can
No no no one you can trust(x4)
Some say the locked in the sweat-box
I know
I've never been there, I my keys to get a rock
We sing along to forgotten AM radio
And drink expensive wine, the friends that we left hanging
prisoners in conceit
We heard the cracks
I for sure don't trust no one who says' they've got you back
The windows all
Outside the pollution booms
Everyone's now like cockroaches in dark rooms
been brought back from the dead before, so anything can happen
Obsessed with tragic antics, and out like Eric Clapton
These are my wild years, I'm trying to the pain
The of dying
wrestle in my brain
We've all been leaders of
We've all spiders on the wall
Waiting for a hand to smash us or the doom of light to
Is this of just self-hatred
wild, uncontained
Leaking a broken soul
Is this or a stain
Is this or a stain...