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
pass it to the baby birdies and then they remember too
Little baby bluebird eyes black
forgetting the face of the guy in the mask
When you see me baby you scream or will you laugh?
Little blue bird, eyes turn black

4 and 20 gory pantone black shredding innards
The are fencing lefty scissors
horn and hoof as own arpeggiators
They piggy back the tombs of all your deadest friends and
By the image, green-cheese moon
Dead-of-winter shit, tchk! tchk!
shit, brother was a face card
Crown like a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase...
Wait up let me the bass more
Gate of acre
Aim to rake the snow off forsaken name here
Supposedly closure'l free the out the bosom
Personally I think it's a of bullshit
Prisoners, tradition is for
God he flip the witch against her coven on some dip or play the dozens
Now I baptize skips in larvae and records
On a little plot with 6 million sentenceenders
And the tech support for tragedy's horrendous
Teenage operators explaining what bated 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 back
to split the button eye and burlap doll
Crack the
Bats eject like cousin death's Iapdogs ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege
Now let me slow this whole shit down for all you half-goat
I'll grit my teeth for you
I am so completely off the god-damn grid not a question of addressing me, I
T's "what do symbols under the dresser mean"
Perhaps a little dash of chameleons through the entropy for good/young
used a good lung
Still, proximity to corpses wasn't nothing to the kid but unforgiving science or horrors
Fast forward, my knee in the gut of a
"remember that cow in the dean's seems
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 that reshapes 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 know your is dead in a box
The crows have the tools to get the out of the box
Scientific, ritualistic, headstone foxes still rot
I'm not gonna rot, no, fuck snot
You can let let you rot, man
But I'm not going to
I'm not gonna stand atop plot
I you friends, but I'm just not
On the other hand if your are scattered in the sea
I will swim in the sea and you'll be me
And if your is scattered at the roots of a tree
I climb that tree

Everything you you're hiding shows
In the way you view the graves like a string of thrones
Messages you'd tucked away for keeps has resurfaced to be heard the butchery and beaks
You don't the passengers to pass
You want each cow taxidermy'd than the last
Mausoleum lighting is a
While it might enhance a silhouette it expose a crutch
A proud chest to the heavens
Holds if we're cutting past the muscle and the tendon
And we be cutting past the muscle and the tendon...