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 I'm lazy
A piece of shit with no love to give at all now
And the god up there
that I'm the greatest
Tells me no one else could be as as me.
I listen to them all, I was a disc jockey to
Little propagandist selling
I a cocoon 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 quart of gin
I drink and and smoke until the only voice I hear
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 birds are singing, my soul's nowhere around
I have myself a monster
I have damned myself
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 mother's
I'm sucking on tit
She's milking me her

I drink I'm convinced there's no place left to go
You know there's no left to go (x4)
So I until the pain is dry
I it never is
Sometimes though, I I think that I'm the best
Until the morning after when I up with the guilt
Of burning all the things my sacred hands have built
And throwing out all the you know I never felt
Yeah, you know I never (x4)
make our tortured Romeo's
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 you've control
Your is plagiarism
your symbols have up
corruption's as confused
As old lovers you dug
some hidden toxic fume
Your dissipates
In the ozone of acts with motive
All the you hate
There's bodies dancing,
Sexual
Crazy in an
The way people eat
Regrets weight overwhelms, and tired fall
Bankrupt the beaten
split one more eight-ball
Blue as beggars, beaten,
eyes made of rust
And we all know when it gets like there's no one you can trust
No no no one you can trust(x4)
say the solution's locked in the sweat-box
I wouldn't
I've never been there, I sold my keys to get a
We sing along to AM radio stations
And drink expensive wine, toast the friends that we hanging
prisoners in conceit
We heard through the
I know for sure don't no one who says' they've got you back
The all explode
Outside the noise pollution
Everyone's now hidden like cockroaches in rooms
I've been brought back from the before, so anything can happen
Obsessed with tragic antics, down and out like Clapton
are my wild years, I'm trying to enjoy the pain
The euphoria of
Toxins in my brain
We've all been leaders of
all been spiders on the wall
Waiting for a hand to smash us or the of light to fall
Is guilt of just self-hatred
wild, uncontained
Leaking from a broken
Is this or a stain
Is this or a stain...