Luyện nghe bài hát Crows 1

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

4 and 20 gory pantone crows shredding innards
The silouettes are fencing scissors
horn and hoof as own arpeggiators
They piggy back the tombs of all your friends and neighbors
By the getty image, moon
Dead-of-winter shit, tchk! tchk!
Shifter shit, brother was a face
Crown like a tunnel of woven branches leaning in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
Wait up let me isolate the bass
Gate of acre
Aim to rake the snow off each forsaken name
Supposedly free the vipers out the bosom
I think it's a bunch of bullshit
Prisoners, is for lovers
God forbid he flip the against her coven on some dip or play the dozens
Now I baptize skips in and dental records
On a little plot pregnant with 6 sentenceenders
And the tech support for tragedy's emphatically
operators 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 button eye and doll
the crypt
Bats eject cousin death's wing-ed Iapdogs ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege
Now let me slow this whole shit down for all you 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 these symbols the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little of karma chameleons through the entropy for good/young
used a good lung
Still, proximity to corpses wasn't to the kid but unforgiving science or cinematic horrors
forward, my knee in the gut of a glass
"remember that cow in the dean's seems
And I know your people donated pints to the same pavement but for ash and to share a space with strangers seems outrageous, ain't it?
Maybe a dialog of howls that reshapes thejowls and face somehow relates to you have found among a thousand cloned shrines, either way - dope stone lion

And call to let you know 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 rot, no, fuck that snot
You can let let you rot, man
But I'm not going to
I'm not stand atop your plot
I love you friends, but I'm not
On the other hand if ashes are scattered in the sea
I will swim in the sea and be with me
And if shit is scattered at the roots of a tree
I will climb that

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