Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility III

The great truth is isn't one
And it only gets since that conclusion
The irony of being an 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
bridges becomes a habit to support
And the line expands like there's no tomorrow

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

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

The odour of is just refined stench of existence
pearl of Augeas' crown pales in comparison

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

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

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