Luyện nghe bài hát Frontwards

I am the one searchin' for you
And if I get well, then the search is
And the stories you hear, you know never add up
I hear the fussin' at the data 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 that it's leavin'
This pattern's torn and weavin'
This pattern's torn and we're in it

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

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

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