Luyện nghe bài hát Dragon

You actually care
Love for you is no
You're not really

I thought you listening

I thought you listening

I understand you you're above it
The adolescent of the sky
The feeling of billowing
The run through your hair
They run through your


Oh you you're so special
That no law meant for you
You come and go like the you are
We're mere below
run through your hair
We are mere below
Are to be peons
Are meant to be
Are to be dismissible objects
One with
One with
pitiful creature
The in heartbreak
The winner in
The winner in every method of wearing
Your on your sleeve
A red of idiocy
An idiot's
My, my for you
for you
Do you think we're a
kind of a table
You can rest your feet on you're able
Red star of
An idiocy
My for you
pitiful creature
To the pining
The self
The flagellation of you
worshippers
We do like you
We do you haughty
We do to look upon your perfect body
The hair on shoulders
The smell of your
The taste of your and everything on it
We all really you
And you have no
You even see us
You never caring
You go do you do
You do it for you
No one exists you
You're way caring
a trail upon the wake
That no one tries to take
Because for you
of you
Is another way of
Is another way of
I'm your chest
'Til collarbone bleeds
Piercing nipples 'til I bite them off
I scratch your face and bite your
Way above
Way above
And your jukebox
Your jukebox
I'm doomed, I'm
for you
In high heels and nightie
Your leather squeaking
now sweating, waiting for you
In your
opium white bathrobe
Your tiles run red now
Are we both dead
The liquid of our heart
The liquid exchange of our
Are we both now?
way above caring
Your heart on sleeve
A red of idiocy
An idiocy
My
My for you
My for you
way beyond caring
Your on your sleeve
A red star of
An idiocy
My for you
Oblivious to
to caring
Oblivious to
Leave a trail upon the
no one ever tries to take
Because for you
thinking of you
Is another way of
You're way caring
Oblivious to
to caring
You pitiful creature
The of feeling
The one who you is the winner,
true
The winner in
The winner in
The winner in every miniscule method of
Your heart on your
A red star of
An idiot's
Your heart on fuckin' sleeve
My for you
We were meant to be
We're to be peons
Mere mortals
to be servants
Meant to be dismissible objects one fucks
Oh, oh, oh so special
No law for you
You come and go the goddess you are
The fingertips run through hair
A billowing heart


What a glorious
To be so
So
An idiot's
My for you
You think I'm a book or a
You can rest your fuckin' on
When able
The taste of vulva, everything on it
The on your shoulders
The smell of your
We do love you, to look upon perfect body
We you regal
We love you
Oblivious to
Oblivious to

Oh my
Oh my
Oh my
Oblivious to
Are we really dead
Are we both now?