Luyện nghe bài hát Garbage

The ritual goes, window different visual.

Wing of wax, or of gold leaf
Choose one. Float or plummet 20 thousand legues
My nourishment's in the summer
So I wonder
How y'all chasin' dreams when tangible still outruns ya
dirty doll immaculate performance
Warm as the march of a billion torches forward to burn what I at
Cut and paste alertness to set is provided quick
Shimmy the ship mast, bat the eyelids at the siren in her bow (?)
Facing, let's salute the embrace pertinent generals who turned innocent hermits to spectacles.
Flirtin' a serpent workin' overtime
Drain the battery, siphon the poison and his majesty's hatchery.
I was riding on the bus to where the brush thickens.
Yeah, an it ain't exactly plush
I'd rather take the time to every last bridge I've ever crossed beneath the sun
Than live my life knowin' you may one day follow me one.
Snake
Breath too to hold.
Caught up in the of the red witch tryin' to swim it.
Ran for the sake of dead click stripped of image
a sloppy earth meal feed my pottery wheel to model collossal vision
Thrill, with a bucket of pennies
I'ma drag my sneakers through the dirt alligator bellies
the cloud burst
Honour and a loud thirst submersed in a
Little boy verse' thunderclap

In a city of garbage, tryin' to reap the
Adaption is the in which the artist meets the forest
your little axe or be an oak tree if you can
Either way, adapt to circumstance or you final hand.

No enigma, an attempt to the hatchet
Rendered me of deviltry plus wounded like stigmatics
somethin hazardous
I smell an inch of differnce in this mornin's pollution pistons and how the ends drift in
My pash (?) institutions slipped in admidst the invaders and,
Pardon my but,
This garden's fucken' acres since my visit.
Itchin' to count the layers in the blizzard to that chapter where my family inserts the dagger and it.
It's the carnival, have you any sweets for my kin
the carnival, have you any feed for my cheery grin
It's the carnival, welcome, our games you'll never win
Coz that carnival where every freak show spectacle's your friend.
An' I'm a,
Ghostly galleon, tossed upon seas
Antifreeze to glacier cookin' a look of nature
the,
Ceilin' feelin' too heavy to bless the I-beams for a fraction more collapse (I left sorry) that to door.
my back to hell's kitchen, back
Burnin' machinery, released regardless of the pardons
Hitchin my to the leash of one minstrel
Sick of window different visual
agnostic hostage different ritual
Play, coopertive supercolony clash (I heard we have a collection - let me see it)
Ooh, I duel underdog verse forced adaption to the marbles of the now
Since then my knuckles once dragged on the ground.

In a city of garbage, tryin' to the harvest
Adaption is the trap in the artist meets the forest
Swing your little axe or be an oak if you can
Either way, adapt to circumstance or you final hand.

The ritual goes, same different visual.
The ritual is same window different visual.