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 and bleed the only purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. logic concieved in a walk with skin. I sleep with reason producing these monsters.
Under painted catcalls as in temptation. yeah there's a key to be in, but no shade, no shade to blame.
Waterfalls in a grey, and the struggle is colored grey this day. The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is in central neutral grey. Absinthe to slight the pain. This world's this 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 so logic can reap in a walk with sin. El sueno razon produce monsinios.
When does this dream end? Now I've missed another season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this land as 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 sight blurring my vision 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 that if offers, the shelter I have.
When does this dream end? This is no dream. This is the waking living breathing of a memory.
I cave in to temptation of creation. But still my only thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of crows fills up the picture plane. This is picture plain in central neutral grey.
This world's worst case color scheme. Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he the switch 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 of a smile I found 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, every harvest 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 one souls definition of beauty. and a backlit smile 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 promised end to this path, by image that we borrow, every harvest depends on the past.
Subdivide in our linear parabola, we subdivide our waking hours to sleep.
While guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight, 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 knock" the latter 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 anonymity, in death a noble prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for a soap box to leave behind.
Life is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all been done before, I to do it again. I want do it again.
the switch.
This our journey's through the dark.
Kill the switch, a comatose, tonight we journey through the darkness.
As in sorrow, so ye weep, as in reason, so shall ye sleep.