Luyện nghe bài hát Crows 1

Birds of a
Black feather stick together forever and ever and always remember you
And all of the you do
They it to the baby birdies and then they remember too
baby bluebird eyes turn black
Without the face of the guy in the mask
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 card
Crown like a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches leaning in his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
Wait up let me isolate the more
Gate of god's
Aim to rake the snow off forsaken name here
Supposedly closure'l free the out the bosom
I think it's a bunch of bullshit
Prisoners, tradition is for
God forbid he the witch against her coven on some dip or play the dozens
Now I baptize skips in larvae and records
On a little plot pregnant with 6 million
And the tech support for tragedy's horrendous
Teenage operators explaining what bated is
Pass, I wish it were something I 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
Crack the
Bats eject like cousin 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 god-damn grid it's not a of addressing me, I
T's "what do these symbols the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little dash of chameleons through the entropy for good/young
Could've used a good
Still, proximity to 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 people donated pints to the same pavement but for ash and bone to share a space with strangers seems outrageous, ain't it?
Maybe a dialog of howls that reshapes thejowls and 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 foxes 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 love you friends, but I'm not
On the other hand if ashes are scattered 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 will that tree

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 to be heard amidst the butchery and beaks
You don't the passengers to pass
You want each cow taxidermy'd fatter the last
Mausoleum is a rush
While it enhance a silhouette it might expose 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...