Luyện nghe bài hát Jejune

A green line across my forehead says I was never king at all.
And all my fell out like rotting teeth.
My riches 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 things must pass, but the aching never fades away.

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

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

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

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

I'd like to take my name and burn it my mattress and my books and my identity.
And I'd like to drive until I see the skylines.
Sometimes I feel so stuck in propulsion, my feet are 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 that when you left I was discolored and frayed, would you lend me hue and wax?

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

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