Luyện nghe bài hát Crows 1

Birds of a
Black feather stick together forever and and they always remember you
And all of the you do
They pass it to the baby birdies and then they too
Little baby bluebird eyes turn
Without the face of the guy in the mask
you see me baby will you scream or will you laugh?
Little baby bird, eyes turn black

4 and 20 pantone black crows shredding innards
The silouettes are fencing lefty
horn and hoof as own arpeggiators
They piggy back the tombs of all deadest friends and neighbors
By the image, green-cheese moon
shit, graveyard tchk! tchk!
Shifter shit, brother was a face
Crown a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches leaning in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
Wait up let me the bass more
Gate of acre
Aim to rake the off each forsaken name here
Supposedly closure'l free the vipers out the
Personally I think it's a of bullshit
Prisoners, is for lovers
God forbid he flip the witch against her coven on some dip or play the
Now I baptize skips in larvae and dental
On a little plot pregnant 6 million sentenceenders
And the tech support for tragedy's horrendous
Teenage explaining what bated breath is
Pass, I wish it were I could diagram on a napkin so you won't feel so detached if it should happen to you privately
Publicly your cat call back
Happy to split the eye and burlap doll
the crypt
Bats eject like cousin wing-ed Iapdogs ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege
Now let me slow whole shit down for all you half-goat cowards
I'll even my teeth for you
I am so completely off the grid it's not a question of addressing me, I
T's "what do symbols under the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little dash of karma chameleons through the entropy for
Could've used a good
Still, proximity to corpses wasn't nothing to the kid but science or cinematic horrors
Fast forward, my knee in the gut of a
"remember that cow in the dean's awkward
And I know your people donated pints to the same pavement but for ash and bone to share a space with strangers seems outrageous, it?
Maybe a dialog of howls that thejowls and face somehow relates to whatever you have found among a thousand cloned shrines, either way - dope stone lion

And they call to let you your friend is dead in a box
The crows the tools to get the meat out of the box
Scientific, ritualistic, headstone cold still rot
I'm not gonna rot, no, that snot
You can let let you rot, man
But I'm not to watch
I'm not gonna stand atop your
I you friends, but I'm just not
On the other if your ashes are scattered in the sea
I swim in the sea and you'll be with me
And if your shit is scattered at the of a tree
I will climb that

Everything you you're hiding shows
In the way you view the graves like a of tiny thrones
Messages you'd tucked away for keeps has resurfaced to be heard the butchery and beaks
You don't want the passengers to
You want each cow taxidermy'd than the last
Mausoleum is a rush
it might enhance a silhouette it might expose a crutch
A chest puffed to the heavens
Holds nothing if we're cutting the muscle and the tendon
And we be cutting past the muscle and the tendon...