Luyện nghe bài hát I Am The Bearer, I Stand In Need

I fucking loved you, but never said a word to it known
I fucking you, but never said the words as hard to harm

I'm so of sourcing men to quote

My God quiver, and nor should he do
From threats below the Of Cancer
And nor he do

I was a fucking idiot, but no one told me til I die o' it
My God doesn't quiver from threats below the Tropic Of
I was born who I was, no doctored manuscript could say that I'm not
But I'll take my own for it and wear the sign, "Here be a cunt"

I sat portraits and drew symbols of brotherhoods on my arm
I used only pencil, because nothing in my can ever last
I watched my mother garden, and thought of all the I made her cry
I watched my sister watch me, we both agreed like us never last

I under the stairs, I crawl under the fern

Decaying leaves, a garden
She drags her fingers across the
I can hear my mother
In other soil in another

She's getting drunk and starting
With famous pricks who run the
I can hear my sister
In another in another room

These fingers move
These lungs louder
I can hear my body
"Spare the drama, now go to sleep"

My father looks upon his
and ferns and tells his son
"You've made women weep
So the house or leave your life"

I dream, I of England
Oh foreign fern, the in bloom

I dream, I dream of
Oh rotting wood, my to sail

I thought of what I did
I fucking love what's wrong me
No prayer or wine could my arm
To say I was wrong about my

I'd never a living soul
If I was told didn't deserve it
Decaying to hide my corpse
I don't his hands to fucking touch me

I hid in the fern, but no one ever knew

I, made my God quiver, through dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through dissonance and forced dementia
I dream, I of England
Oh foreign fern, the in bloom

I dream, I of England
Oh wood, my boat to sail

I never thought of I did
I fucking what's wrong with me
No prayer or wine could my arm
To say I was about my life

I'd never a living soul
If I was told they didn't it
Decaying to hide my corpse
I don't his hands to fucking touch me

I hid in the local fern, but no one knew

I, my God quiver, through social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social and forced