Luyện nghe bài hát Good Morning, Hypocrite

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

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

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

On the glass, I traced the sun with my thumb. It sank the ground.
And the stars were blinking, like kids who were staring into the wind.
So I climbed through the window and walked I lost my name.
Now I can play the victim. fine. I've seen it on TV.
But if there's one thing I know, it's that I really know enough.

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

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