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

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

I'm so tired of sourcing men to

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

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

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

I under the stairs, I crawl under the fern

Decaying leaves, a tool
She drags her fingers across the
I can hear my weep
In soil in another world

She's getting drunk and fights
With famous who run the world
I can hear my sister
In another house in another

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

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

I dream, I dream of
Oh foreign fern, the world in

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

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

I'd never harm a living
If I was they 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 social dissonance and dementia
I, made myself quiver, social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social dissonance and dementia
I dream, I dream of
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 love wrong with me
No prayer or wine could my arm
To say I was wrong about my

I'd harm a living soul
If I was told they deserve it
Decaying leaves to hide my
I don't want his hands to touch me

I hid in the local fern, but no one knew

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