Luyện nghe bài hát Leaving LA

I was on the hill
By the water tower and trails
When the big one hit I'd have a
To watch masters abandon their dogs and run free
O it's time to leave
Take the van and the hearse to New Orleans
under the gaze of the billboard queens
5 foot chicks with lips selling sweatshop jeans

These L.A. phonies and their Pitchfork
Sound like dollar and Amy Grant
So reads the pulled from my last cover piece
"The Oldest Man in Folk Rock Speaks"
You can it all over the airwaves
The manufactured gasp of the final
should tell them 'bout the time that they don't have
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless

A few things the needs
of Love, a mask of Tragedy
But if you want or birth control
run the tap until the water's cold
Anything else you can get
A creation or a .45
going to need one or the other to survive
Where the armed or the funny make it out alive Mara taunts me 'neath the tree
She's like, "Oh great, that's just what we all
Another white guy in
Who takes himself seriously"
She's not far off, the strange is
That's pretty much what I thought when I this
It me all my life to learn to the play the G
But the role of Oedipus was a breeze

But I dreamed of garnering on rave reviews
Just believably north of God's own truth
He's a national treasure now, and the proof
In the form of his major label
A little less human with release
Closing the gap between the and me
I I'd never do this, but is it okay
Don't want to be that guy but my birthday
If everything ends with the then I'm on my way

oh-ho-ho-ho-oh

I watched my old guards all
Blow away violence than my cartoon past
It's like my father before he croaked
"Son, killing me, that's all folks."
So why is it I'm so
That what I'm selling is getting
At some point you just control
What use your fake name for So I never learned to play the lead guitar (clearly)
I more preferred the speaking parts
Besides always someone willing to
Fill up the that I couldn't use
Nonetheless, I've been my whole life
Washing dishes, playing drums, and by
Until I figured, if I'm here then I just
my lack of skill here in the spotlights
Maya, the of illusions, a beard, and I

2000 or so years Ovid taught
Night-blooming, rosebuds, dirty talk
And I'm merely a minor to
Manic virginal lust and dudes
Well, I'm to begin to see the end
Of how it all goes between me and them
Some 10 chorus-less diatribe
as they all jump ship, "I used to like this guy
His new songs really kind of make me to die"

oh-ho-ho-ho-oh
Ohhh-ho-oh-oh

My first memory of music's
The time at JCPenney my mom
The watermelon I was choking on
Barbara screaming, "someone my son"
I relive it times the radio's on
That "tell me the lies, sweet little white lies"
That when I saw the comedy won't stop for
Even little boys in the department store
So we leave in total silence
New Year's Day, it's 6 AM
I've never seen a sunset abandoned
Reminds me predictably of the end
be good to get more space
God knows what all these paid
I can drinking and you can write your script
But what we think now is...