Luyện nghe bài hát Kw

In streets still with sleep
words that are worth the dirt beneath
verbal arrows that you
down the moon in parking lot

I hit you in the
my fist imprinted with your teeth
and your struck cobblestone
realigned like a bone

If you play it
Keep me on the
hold your so tight
until your knuckles white

Any glove fits
was by hypocrites
with no one to blame
there's no reward for a wicked

Your still follow me
like cigarette burns in a sweatshirt
like a space you fill
you can try to drown me but I'm to kill

You can struggle for my
cheer me on the side with your pretender pride
I'll but won't forget
all the of your swaying threats

If you it right
Keep me on the
hold your knives so
until your knuckles white

Any that fits
was by hypocrites
with no one to blame
there's no reward for a fame

when we hit the dust
hands smelling coins and decaying rust
Your heels were hazard
Just the kind of crazy that would my eye

Your instructions still
"just a few can throws crooked tail"
Your sling and in speech
Feels just like a dream

If you play it
me on the line
hold knives so tight
until knuckles turn white

Any glove that
was stitched by
with no one else to
there's no for a wicked fame