Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility I

The great truth is there one
And it only gets since that conclusion
The of being an extension to nothing
And the force of inertia is now a vital

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

I the maggots
Their at least sticks together
Better laudations of misinformed seers
And are lengthy annals of shame that we work with

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

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

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

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

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