Luyện nghe bài hát Faint-heart And The Sermon

With my drained of colour
and my of blood
Billy Budd
I'm lashed to the
senses growing duller
and with heart
I make a
at equating
and my suck useless air.
paraplegic dancers
in formation
my seems
in its movements,
answers
that break my bonds--
to be wrong
be, in me, improvement...
but my comprehensive are impaired.
And it absurd, but now all I've heard
fades in words and is worthless
as the Human Laugh the cenotaph
but the is half-true, and mirthless.
Trying to a reason
from the words
but all heard
seem at odds with meanings,
pleasing
but in such haste
that in place
my commences screaming.
On the of belief I crash onto the reef
and a cynical steals my senses,
so I to the pew with dimensions askew,
and recognition refuses tenses.
All the
of the saints that my faint
is a complaint, but the end is
in sight,
why can't I me a way to go?
I don't to die in the nave,
but I know it may be with me day
so I've got to a way I can save up
my energies, and a cause to pray
so for something
to which I can 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 the preacher says
except for the conflict raging my head
and my brain.
I don't want to die, but just the
day....
Waiting for moment
that I will come
I'll have to run
and find sermon...
and Norman
and the priest--
still, I am at
all the doors open.
Inside me all is shared.
As the cracked bells peal it all unreal
but the seventh stays unbroken
and the plate tenders no escape--
still I to scrape up a token
of esteem for false
alleyways of the
I must try to divorce sense sensing.
me again,
me the way to go.
So when I talk to
although I take good to listen
my heart grows more faint--
there's missing?