Luyện nghe bài hát Every Poet Wants To Murder Shakespeare

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Every poet wants to murder
Were just on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that they were
going on here and its going on without me
Im on the precipice and counting all my recipes
Im sick and tired of paying homage to the
Of the things that went before me when I wasnt born to be
Every wants to murder Shakespeare
Were pissing on the grave of what went on before
And invents the world the day that they were born
Theres a painting of my in the corner
Shes taken off her clothing and shes in the rain
Seems like beckoning for me to come and join her
But trapped inside a painting and Im running out of patience
I sip a pint of beer and at the magic
I must be as as Mister Marlowe in his prime
I through the shambles of my own imagination
Cause the poet of tomorrow will be as drunk as I am
Every wants to murder Shakespeare
Were pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that were born
Every poet wants to Shakespeare
just pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day they were born
Every poet to murder Shakespeare...