Luyện nghe bài hát Jejune

A green line across my forehead I was never really king at all.
And all my friends fell out like teeth.
My turned to dust, my kingdom crumbles and falls away.
But every is a blossom of jejune praise.
I feel I'm learning more day. I need to find my feet again.
And I know that all good things pass, but the aching never fades away.

A of lenses fracture light across a map.
The places we've never been are Sharpied onto tape on a coffee can.
You were in the kitchen, I was helping you breathe.
You were screaming at the boards "This place is not for me".
But now you're leaving. The is done.
You fold us airplanes and throw us at the sun.

And I feel sick when I sit still.
I you follow plot-lines,
how she'd tilt her head to show you that there was no
of you.

Was I the between your palms?
Was she the slab that broke your
Did you get my

The green line across my forehead. Was I really here at all?
My efforts stretched like bands, decayed.
We charades inside this abandoned apartment space
To the promise made that "maybe one day..."

I'd like to take my and burn it with my mattress and my books and my identity.
And I'd like to drive until I see the skylines.
I feel so stuck in propulsion, my feet are still in motion but my head is fucking frozen.
So I'm leaving. The is done.
My is unconditional, But I'm in no condition to love.

Now I've found to write about. This is the letting go for hope in jejune bloom.
If I told you when you left I was discolored and frayed, would you lend me your hue and wax?

(Trace your mind back to a time where headstones were headlines and your pooled sweet on our tongues.)

And if I showed you, through verb and tax I had learned to let go,
If I could go back, I'd say that you right.
You're right. right.