Luyện nghe bài hát In The Nervous Light Of Sunday

Whispers invoke the artists of this tragically seemless, ill tapestry,
blistered are tending their loom.
She collects the strands to into life.
Logging the of an ageless, woven infinity, countless raw fibers are clawing the frame.
A woman's work is never done, but the final has got to come,
and so three witches contend to slice the very last
(that you curse, constantly)
But nothing's immortal, and is not guaranteed-
a yearling who bears our passions is chosen, frozen and quivering,
like a in the wake of a blade.
So we compromise, so we sacrifice.
Compromise nothing, but that which secures a comfortable life, risk as the of a healing sacrifice.
Destroy the altar whose boundaries will never exceed, ignite the pyres underneath a sedated mythology.
Five his lifetime, and his life's work is just fading scratches in stone.
She tends the numerals, counting fingers, her toes.
Keeping of the time racing, years wasting
(dance to the sound of his weight back breaking)
infinite ages the of this quilt's making.
And we dance, we in the stronghold...
That you curse, constantly, of the needle's sheen.
Do you this thin strand resting in a pinch?
the thread that you curse, curse constantly.
An patch on a quilt that hangs from a wall in a throw frought with our decay...
From six states away, five years of guilt postmarked four days my escape.
All I ever was for a clean break.
In the first nervous of the day,
collecting the novels whose sought to keep me contained.
My dad's favorite novel on top of the pile, in the self concious first light shake the of his smile, igniting these volumes, igniting these volumes I'm warmed by the flames.
Alter the deafening tones...
In the nervous light, I dance in the nervous light and I'm by the flames.
Dance to the sound of his weight bearing fucking breaking.
Alter the pitch of his bearing back breaking, dictate the pitch of his weight bearing back breaking,
Alter the tone of your weight bearing back breaking, we can mend all the seams that torn during our backs slowly breaking.
In the light...