Luyện nghe bài hát Kill The Switch

Map the words to deny, deny the symptoms, as 'oh yeah I'm doing fine', as I've found a 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 reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I sleep with reason producing these monsters.
Under painted 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 this day. The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is veiled in central neutral grey. Absinthe to slight the pain. This world's worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain, the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he threw the switch, with some unwieldy gauge, absence of remains.
I lay with reason so logic can reap in a walk sin. El sueno razon produce monsinios.
When does this dream end? Now I've another whole season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this as fields once green are ochre now.
is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just below the surface skin of ground.
Stitched the earth and the sky struggling to hold it down.
Sometimes to realize you have to track, lose track of sight blurring my vision makes it clear that tiny moving parts make up the whole.
The image is clear, a tower is built of my own pride, I cry in the shade if offers, the only shelter I have.
When does this dream end? This is no dream. This is the waking living 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. This is your picture in central neutral grey.
world's this worst case color scheme. Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch some unwieldy gauge, absence of light remains.
is lowly anonymity, in death a noble pose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a 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 on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow, that learned from the birth of sea.
by the threnody of the crows. Reap the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this silence one souls definition of beauty. and a backlit so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm this moment to shine and
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all beauty to be still.
Every breath as in sorrow, reap the end to this 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.
guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight, enlightenment is losing sight.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. In this low light town when my shift begins the streets reflecting 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 me "knock knock knock" the latter just a thought to thrill me.
"Red" is a letter word. Four letter invitation. Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun...
Life is lowly anonymity, in a noble prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who give their lives for such a soap box to leave behind.
Life is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all been done before, I want to do it again. I do it again.
the switch.
This night our 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.