Luyện nghe bài hát Kill The Switch

Map the words to deny, deny the symptoms, as 'oh yeah I'm doing fine', as found a most endearing psychosis.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. as I am I just can't strip bare and bleed the only purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I with reason producing these monsters.
Under 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 is colored grey this day. The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture is veiled in central 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 unwieldy gauge, absence of light remains.
I lay with reason so logic can reap in a walk with sin. El sueno produce monsinios.
does this dream end? Now I've missed another whole season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its on this land as fields once green are ochre now.
This is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just the surface 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 blurring my vision makes it clear that tiny moving parts make up the whole.
The is clear, a tower is built of my own pride, I cry in the shade that if offers, the only shelter I have.
When does this dream end? is no dream. This is the waking living breathing caricature of a memory.
Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation. But my only thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of crows fills up the picture plane. 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 with some unwieldy gauge, absence of light remains.
Life is anonymity, in death a noble pose, a Marat David.
me who wouldn't 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. Reap point on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, every harvest 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 fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this silence one souls definition of beauty. and a smile so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm this to shine and sleep-
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all that to be still.
Every breath as in sorrow, reap the promised end to path, by every image 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 there's a thrill I swear. In this low light town when my 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 just a thought to thrill me "knock knock knock" the latter just a to thrill me.
"Red" is a four letter word. letter invitation. Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun...
is lowly anonymity, in death a noble prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a soap box to behind.
is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all been done before, I want to do it again. I want do it again.
the switch.
This our journey's through the dark.
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose, tonight we journey the darkness.
As in sorrow, so ye weep, as in reason, so shall ye sleep.