Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility I

The great is there isn't one
And it only gets since that conclusion
The irony of being an to nothing
And the of inertia is now a vital factor

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

I envy the
Their at least sticks together
Better than laudations of seers
And those are lengthy annals of shame that we with

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

The odour of sanctity is just refined stench of
Shining pearl of Augeas' pales in comparison

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

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

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