Luyện nghe bài hát Good Morning, Hypocrite

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

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

from my bed, to collect the thoughts that'd fallen from my head,
And you watched me sink, the carpet, through 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 were blinking, like kids who staring into the wind.
So I climbed through the window and until I lost my name.
Now I can play the victim. It's fine. seen it on TV.
But if one thing I know, it's that I never really know enough.

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

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