Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility III

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

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

I the maggots
stuff at least sticks together
Better than of misinformed seers
And those are lengthy annals of shame that we work

It's dumping 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 even remember which is which

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

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

The grotesque eagles of misfortune, well fed on thanatos, sit
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 blindness onto