Luyện nghe bài hát Frontwards

I am the one searchin' for you
And if I get caught well, then the is
And the stories you hear, you they never add up
I hear the natives fussin' at the data
Be quiet, the weather's on the news

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

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

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

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

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