Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility IV

The great truth is isn't one
And it gets worse since that conclusion
The irony of being an extension to
And the force of inertia is now a factor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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