Luyện nghe bài hát From Blown Speakers

When the contact from the real life adventures wear off,
you find, in the tiny moments that bomb, your old files rain from the sky.
And would they fall down, like cymbal crashes, the alarm bell sound?
Would your eyelashes keep all this in time? If not, I mind...

it can be impractical.

So can you tell me why in every of the events shown here,
there's another season that crawls by years, from blown speakers clear?

It out magical.

Just a contact high, one in every mood I've ever declined to fight, one in every single exchange you find. From blown speakers, time came out magical.

It came out magical, out blown speakers.