Luyện nghe bài hát Exercises In Futility VI

The great truth is isn't one
And it only worse 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
Burning bridges becomes a to support
And the front line like there's no tomorrow

I the maggots
Their stuff at sticks 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 was left of Yggdrasil
veterans of spiritual revolts were done with their armchairs
And I don't even remember brink is which

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

And is despair underneath each and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the of numbness
Burning becomes a habit to support
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 growing garbage dump of life

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