Luyện nghe bài hát Dead Cliché

I strayed from the kitchen that's where we kept the
that slice the tense air from clenched fists
I wasn't to pain but I fled home everyday,
staring at the through the skin on my wrist
And in the morning my throat burned like cuts and scrapes
and salty dry eyes to wake
the only were cold hands of a mother
say "it'll be ok"
I'd be no than A Dead Clich,
A Dead
A Dead
nothing to say
farewell notes are so
So me in a gallery, we'll call it art
you can critique the blood stain on the
why let my death go to waste, if I'm dying
I as well have something to die for
Cause I'm breathing in dead air, I'm tugging at skin
I that every road I walk is a dead end
And the would agree it's the only fame I'll see
Cause all the greatest are insane. Or Dead.
I made a heart out of and wire
I painted it the of crying eyes
I it on my sleeve
for the to see

you're born you learn you decay and die