Luyện nghe bài hát Head? Chest? Foot?

three choices, one bullet, one trigger, guess who to pull it
one leader, a slaves.
for every there's a thousand graves
you're all the same, just of their machine perpetuate their dream
They subsidize your nightclubs, and they your balls
herd and brand the masses within painted prison walls.
Till your freedom of assembly the missiles they create.
Or just mass delusion dancing to this music that you hate.

But I'm not the same. I'm not of your fucking machine.
I'll their dream.
I'd rather be imprisoned in a George Orwell-ian
your pacified society of happy boys and girls.
I'd know my enemies and let you know the same.
Whose to smash and whose tires to slash
And to point the fucking blame.

One future. Two choices. Oppose or let them destroy us.