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. Desperate as I am I just can't strip bare and bleed the purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I with reason producing 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 crows fills up the 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 road he on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he the switch, with some unwieldy gauge, absence of light remains.
I lay with reason so logic can reap in a walk with sin. El sueno produce monsinios.
When does this dream end? Now I've missed whole season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this land as fields once are ochre now.
is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just below the surface skin of ground.
Stitched between the earth and the sky 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 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 this dream end? This is no dream. This is the waking living breathing of a memory.
Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation. But still my thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of crows fills up the picture plane. This is your picture plain in central grey.
This world's this worst case scheme. Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the with some unwieldy gauge, absence of light remains.
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a 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 sleep. As in sorrow, so shall ye reap, as in reason so shall ye sleep.
Reap the promised end to the struggle. Reap every point on our path.
Reap the smiles in we borrow, every harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow, that they learned the birth of sea.
Silenced by the threnody of the crows. the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this one souls definition of beauty. and a backlit smile so temporary.
A facade so with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm this moment to shine and sleep-
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all 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 our linear parabola, we subdivide our waking hours to sleep.
While guilty turn toward a porchlight, enlightenment is losing 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 just a thought to thrill me "knock knock" the latter just a thought to thrill me.
"Red" is a four letter word. Four letter invitation. Now my 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 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 through the dark.
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose, tonight we through the darkness.
As in sorrow, so shall ye weep, as in reason, so ye sleep.