Luyện nghe bài hát Crows 1

Birds of a
Black feather stick forever and ever and they always remember you
And all of the you do
They pass it to the baby birdies and then 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 baby blue bird, eyes turn

4 and 20 gory pantone black shredding innards
The silouettes are lefty scissors
Separating horn and hoof as own
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 card
Crown a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches leaning in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
up let me isolate the bass more
Gate of acre
Aim to rake the snow off forsaken name here
Supposedly free the vipers out the bosom
Personally I it's a bunch of bullshit
Prisoners, tradition is for
God forbid he flip the witch against her coven on some dip or play the
Now I baptize skips in larvae and records
On a little plot pregnant with 6 million
And the tech support for tragedy's emphatically
Teenage operators explaining what breath is
Pass, I wish it were something I could on a napkin so you won't feel so detached if it should happen to you privately
Publicly your shadows'll cat call
Happy to the button eye and burlap doll
the crypt
Bats like cousin death's wing-ed Iapdogs ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege
Now let me slow whole shit down for all you half-goat cowards
even grit my teeth for you
I am so completely off the god-damn grid it's not a question of me, I
T's "what do symbols under the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little dash of karma through the entropy for good/young
Could've a good lung
Still, to corpses wasn't nothing to the kid but unforgiving science or cinematic horrors
Fast forward, my in the gut of a glass
"remember that cow in the dean's seems
And I know your people donated pints to the same 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 they call to let you know your friend is in a box
The crows the tools to get the meat out of the box
Scientific, ritualistic, cold foxes still 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 gonna stand your plot
I you friends, but I'm just not
On the other hand if your ashes are 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 tree

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