Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Lotta Walls

Dialed up his homie on the telephone
Gotta talk to who can tell him what the hell is wrong
Brain freezing up, he don't know to do
But the people that know him know that it nothing new
Catch five rings, an answering machine
Hang up on the beep, stare up the ceiling
Stood up to that he slept fully-dressed
So he grabbed his keys and put a hat on his nest
up to that big outside
Somebody once "Today's a good day to die."
But he never really was a big fan of work
So he starts up the walk by sand in the dirt
A to the strangers, a stranger to friends
He'll take a coffee and a pack of cigarettes you have a minute
Handle it. Paid up. The change, you can it
He's a for the morning smile and summer cleavage
If you knew him better he'd ask for time
'cause looking for a reservoire to empty his mind
And there's only so he can put in a song
talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong

2X]
And this house has gotta walls
But only few mean anything to you
And house has gotta lotta walls
But only very few anything to you

No shop value to
Far from shallow, so get it
Blacktop, sidewalk,and the
'cause life is priceless and is cheap
And as he (as he sits) in his four-cornered room
a tune, born to consume
Carefully learning and the lyrics you use
realizing that humility is a bruise
Scared love don't none
If these could speak, they would peep about the fake ones
Watching this man, off of his plan-
Underachievin' so he can understand. (Crazy reverse speech.)

So, who did tattoos?
nice
And who built tabboos?
life
If he had a glass pipe, he would it and use it to slash his wrists
But someone beat him to it
He would fingerpaint you a picture with his
A self-portrait, and morbid
But the of you finding any appreciation are too slim-
Keeps his outlook
Tap his foot to the of original sin
Throw his balls to the trying to know down these pins
He'll keep swinging the hair above his chin
Till he finds his soul in the fifty bin
The price of the payphone
smile when he takes home one of his dates
He could write another hate-poem for you to
Or maybe stay calm and wait for that big
Still by the fire and the water
trying to honor this empire's daughter
Still questions you're afraid to ask
Still believing God's gonna save his ass

If you knew him he'd ask for some time
'cause looking for a reservoire to empty his mind
And only so much he can put in a song
Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him the hell is wrong