Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility VI

The truth is there isn't one
And it gets worse since that conclusion
The irony of being an to nothing
And the force of inertia is now a vital

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

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

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

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

And there is despair underneath each and every
Each and every attempt to 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 arms reached to pass his blindness onto others