Luyện nghe bài hát Frontwards

I am the one searchin' for you
And if I get caught well, the search is
And the you hear, you know they never add up
I hear the natives fussin' at the chart
Be quiet, the weather's on the night

Empty homes, cones
Stolen rims, are alloy or
Well, I've got style, miles and

So much style that leavin'
pattern's torn and she's weavin'
This pattern's and we're weavin' in it

the only one who always inhales
'Cause Paris is and it's war if we fail
And in the migrant hotels, they never sleep and never will
Their souls are crumblin' a dirt clod
your cigarette cuts to the inside

Empty homes, cones
Stolen rims, are alloy or chrome?
Well, I've got style, miles and

So much style that it's
This pattern's torn that we're
This torn and we're weavin' in it