Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility II

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

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

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

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

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

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 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 something about the posture of a proper, authentic blind
As if extended reached to pass his blindness onto others