Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility IV

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

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

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

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

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

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 expands like there's no tomorrow

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

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