Luyện nghe bài hát Faint-heart And The Sermon

With my face drained of
and my brain of
Billy Budd
I'm to the grating;
with senses growing
and with heart
I a start
at temperature
and my suck useless air.
Like paraplegic
in team
my seems
in its movements,
contemplating
that could break my
to be wrong
be, in me, improvement...
but my comprehensive are impaired.
And it absurd, but now all I've heard
fades in empty words and is
as the Human Laugh the cenotaph
but the is half-true, and mirthless.
to trace a reason
from the spinning
but all I've
seem at odds their meanings,
pleasing
but in such haste
that in place
my commences screaming.
On the verge of I crash onto the reef
and a thief steals my senses,
so I cling to the pew dimensions askew,
and recognition present tenses.
All the
of the saints demonstrate my faint
is a complaint, but the end is
in sight,
why I find me a way to go?
I don't to die in the nave,
but I it may be with me some day
so got to find a way I can save up
my energies, and find a cause to
so something for
to I can give my creed...
I'd gladly to the wave,
if I thought the water a way to light;
I'd gladly not brave,
and it's easy to believe what the says
except for the conflict between my head
and my brain.
I don't want to die, but the same--
day....
Waiting for that
that I will come
when have to run
and find sermon...
and Norman
and the talking
still, I am at
all the doors open.
Inside me all is shared.
As the cracked peal it all seems unreal
but the seventh seal unbroken
and the Offertory plate tenders no
still I to scrape up a token
of esteem for false
of the course;
I try to divorce sense from sensing.
me again,
me the way to go.
So when I talk to
although I good care to listen
my grows ever more faint--
something missing?