Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility I

The great truth is isn't one
And it only gets worse that conclusion
The of being an extension to nothing
And the force of inertia is now a factor

And there is despair underneath and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the of numbness
Burning bridges a habit to support
And the front line expands like no tomorrow

I the maggots
Their stuff at sticks together
Better than laudations of misinformed
And those are lengthy annals of shame we work with

It's like dead meat at the brink of Styx
With a barge that we made of what was left of
veterans of spiritual revolts were done with their armchairs
And I don't remember which brink is which

The odour of sanctity is refined stench of existence
Shining pearl of Augeas' crown in comparison

And there is despair each and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of
Burning becomes a habit to support
And the front line expands like no tomorrow

The eagles of misfortune, well fed on thanatos, sit still
It's the dignity of scavengers at the ever growing garbage of life

There is something about the rigid of a proper, authentic blind
As if extended arms reached to pass his onto others