Luyện nghe bài hát Kill The Switch

Map the words to deny, the symptoms, as 'oh yeah I'm doing fine', as I've found a most endearing psychosis.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. Desperate as I am I just can't strip bare and the only purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I sleep with reason these monsters.
painted catcalls as in temptation. yeah there's a key to be in, but there's no shade, no shade to blame.
Waterfalls in a cool grey, and the struggle is colored grey this day. The caw of fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is veiled in neutral grey. Absinthe to slight the pain. This world's this worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain, stained the he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he threw the switch, with some gauge, absence of light remains.
I lay with reason so logic can reap in a walk with sin. El razon produce monsinios.
When does this end? Now I've missed another whole season,
missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this land as fields once green are ochre now.
This is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just below the skin of ground.
Stitched between the and the sky struggling to hold it down.
Sometimes to realize you have to lose track, lose track of sight blurring my vision makes it clear that tiny parts make up the whole.
The image is clear, a is built of my own pride, I cry in the shade that if offers, the only shelter I have.
When does dream end? This is no dream. This is the waking living breathing caricature of a memory.
Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation. But still my thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of fills up the picture plane. This is your picture plain in central neutral grey.
This world's this worst case color scheme. Streaks of oil stain, the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch with some unwieldy gauge, absence of remains.
Life is lowly anonymity, in a noble pose, a Marat David.
Tell me who give their lives for such a soap box to die behind. Life is lowly, lowly anonymity.
In the space of a smile I found sleep. As in sorrow, so shall ye reap, as in so shall ye sleep.
Reap the promised end to the struggle. every point on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, every relies on the last.
Reap the song of the sparrow, that they learned from the birth of sea.
Silenced by the threnody of the crows. Reap the fallen of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this one souls definition of beauty. and a backlit smile so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in opposition set to overwhelm this moment to shine and sleep-
came out on top of was borrowed, and found all that beauty to be still.
Every breath as in sorrow, reap the promised end to this path, by every that we borrow, every harvest depends on the past.
Subdivide in factions our linear parabola, we our waking hours to sleep.
While guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight, enlightenment is sight.
Somewhere out there's a thrill I swear. In this low light town when my shift begins the streets reflecting yellow, yellow, yellow in the vacancy that overwhelms the red, red, red, your vehicle the color of expansion.
"Open up." the latter a thought to thrill me "knock knock knock" the latter just a thought to thrill me.
"Red" is a four letter word. Four invitation. Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun...
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't their lives for such a soap box to leave behind.
Life is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all done before, I want to do it again. I want do it again.
the switch.
This night our journey's the dark.
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose, we journey through the darkness.
As in sorrow, so shall ye weep, as in reason, so ye sleep.