Luyện nghe bài hát Faint-heart And The Sermon

With my face of colour
and my brain of
like Budd
I'm to the grating;
with growing duller
and with quaking
I make a
at equating
and my lungs useless air.
paraplegic dancers
in formation
my seems
in its movements,
contemplating
that break my bonds--
to be wrong
be, in me, improvement...
but my faculties are impaired.
And it seems absurd, but now all heard
fades in words and is worthless
as the Human Laugh rocks the
but the is half-true, and mirthless.
Trying to a reason
from the spinning
but all heard
at odds with their meanings,
phonetically
but in such haste
in their place
my commences screaming.
On the of belief I crash onto the reef
and a cynical steals my senses,
so I cling to the pew dimensions askew,
and refuses present tenses.
All the
of the saints demonstrate that my
is a complaint, but the end is
in sight,
why can't I me a way to go?
I want 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 the water taught a way to light;
I'd gladly not brave,
and it's easy to believe the preacher says
except for the conflict raging between my
and my brain.
I don't want to die, but just the
day....
Waiting for moment
that I know will
when have to run
and find sermon...
Everyman and
and the priest--
still, I am at
holding all the open.
me all outside is shared.
As the cracked bells peal it all unreal
but the seal stays unbroken
and the plate tenders no escape--
still I refuse to scrape up a
of esteem for these
of the course;
I must try to sense from sensing.
me again,
me the way to go.
So when I to myself
although I good care to listen
my heart grows ever faint--
there's missing?