Luyện nghe bài hát Creation or a stain

I got a god in my
me that I'm crazy
Got a god in my
me I'm crazy
An angry little god on my skull
Another god
Tells me that I'm
A useless of shit with no love to give at all now
And the god up there
that I'm the greatest
Tells me no one could be as good as me.
I listen to them all, I was a disc jockey to
Little propagandist selling
I build a cocoon I got to get
A shirt made out of wood and glue and and then some paint(????)
No one see ya down there and no getting in
I got a needle, a pack, a satchel, and a quart of gin
I drink and shoot and smoke the only voice I hear
Is the one me those other people, don't let anybody near
No don't let near (x4)
And now the is ringing, the walls are falling down
The city birds are singing, my soul's around
I have myself a monster
I have damned again
I have all my children, I have tightened up my skin
I'm a walking crucifixion, I'm a fucked-up
Consumed in all left, I'm my mother's misery
I'm on Satan's tit
milking me her pussy

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