Luyện nghe bài hát Dragon

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

I thought you were

I you were listening

I understand you think you're it
The sense of the sky
The of billowing heartbeats
The fingertips run your hair
They run through hair


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


What a feeling
To be so
So
An idiocy
My for you
You think I'm a book or a
You can rest fuckin' feet on
you're able
The taste of vulva, everything on it
The hair on shoulders
The smell of armpit
We do love you, to upon your perfect body
We love you
We you haughty
Oblivious to
to caring

Oh my
Oh my
Oh my
to caring
Are we really now?
Are we dead now?