Luyện nghe bài hát Good Morning, Hypocrite

Seems like the roads out like veins, but there's no heart.
Nature's is concrete now, and we played our part.
So we ...

I've lost my for modern things. They're not for me.
I want mundane: a quiet place, time is free,
And I can ...

Climbed from my bed, to collect the thoughts that'd from my head,
And you watched me sink, through the carpet, the basement, and beyond.
And you blink.

On the glass, I traced the sun with my thumb. It into the ground.
And then the stars blinking, like kids who were staring into the wind.
So I climbed through the window and walked until I my name.
Now I can play the victim. fine. I've seen it on TV.
But if there's one I know, it's that I never really know enough.

Our heads, our hands, our brains, our lungs: just machines.
hearts are all that we've got left, and they don't beat.

Live a little, talk a lot; the way this goes.
I've come to fear the little knives beneath their clothes.
arms are reaching; reach is spreading through the neon glow.
Their mouths are moving, but their sound like telephones.
The traffic hums; the grumbles near my old window.
The street lights flicker; glow and like suspended snow.
I to watch the moon retreat and wonder where it goes.
Now I just wonder why my head is overrun with