Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility II

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

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

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

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

The of sanctity is just refined stench of existence
Shining pearl of Augeas' crown pales in

And is despair underneath each and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the of numbness
Burning becomes a habit to support
And the front line like 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 something the rigid posture of a proper, authentic blind
As if extended arms reached to his blindness onto others