Luyện nghe bài hát Crows 1

Birds of a
feather stick together forever and ever and they always 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 of the guy in the mask
When you see me baby will you scream or you laugh?
Little baby bird, eyes turn black

4 and 20 gory pantone black shredding innards
The silouettes are fencing lefty
Separating and hoof as own arpeggiators
piggy back the tombs of all your deadest friends and neighbors
By the getty image, green-cheese
shit, graveyard tchk! tchk!
Shifter shit, brother was a face
like a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches leaning in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
Wait up let me isolate the more
of god's acre
Aim to rake the snow off each name here
closure'l free the vipers out the bosom
Personally I think it's a of bullshit
Prisoners, is for lovers
God forbid he flip the witch against her on some dip or play the dozens
Now I baptize skips in and dental records
On a little plot pregnant with 6 million
And the tech support for tragedy's horrendous
operators explaining what bated breath is
Pass, I it were something I could diagram on a napkin so you won't feel so detached if it should happen to you privately
Publicly shadows'll cat call back
Happy to split the button eye and doll
the crypt
Bats eject like cousin death's wing-ed ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege
Now let me slow this whole shit down for all you half-goat
I'll even grit my for you
I am so completely off the god-damn grid it's not a of addressing me, I
T's "what do these under the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little dash of karma chameleons through the for good/young
Could've used a good
Still, to corpses wasn't nothing to the kid but unforgiving 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?
a dialog of howls that reshapes thejowls and face somehow relates to whatever 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 have the to get the meat out of the box
Scientific, ritualistic, headstone cold foxes rot
I'm not gonna rot, no, fuck snot
You can let let you rot, man
But I'm not to watch
I'm not stand atop your plot
I you friends, but I'm just not
On the other hand if your ashes are in the sea
I will in the sea and you'll be with me
And if your is scattered at the roots of a tree
I climb that tree

Everything you think hiding shows
In the way you view the graves like a of tiny thrones
you'd 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
lighting is a rush
While it might enhance a silhouette it expose a crutch
A proud chest to the heavens
Holds nothing if we're cutting the muscle and the tendon
And we will be past the muscle and the tendon...