Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility VI

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

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

I envy the
stuff at least sticks together
Better than 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 that we made of what was left of Yggdrasil
After veterans of spiritual revolts done with their armchairs
And I don't even remember which brink is

The odour of sanctity is refined stench of existence
Shining of Augeas' crown pales in comparison

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

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

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