Luyện nghe bài hát Leaving LA

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

These L.A. phonies and their Pitchfork
Sound dollar signs and Amy Grant
So the pulled quote from my last cover piece
Entitled "The Oldest Man in Rock Speaks"
You can hear it all the airwaves
The manufactured of the final days
Someone should tell them 'bout the time that they have
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless

A few the songwriter needs
of Love, a mask of Tragedy
But if you want ecstasy or birth
Just run the tap until the water's
Anything you can get online
A creation or a .45
You're going to need one or the other to
Where only the armed or the funny it out alive Mara taunts me 'neath the tree
She's like, "Oh great, that's what we all need
white guy in 2017
Who takes himself seriously"
She's not far off, the thing is
That's pretty much what I thought when I started
It me all my life to learn to the play the G
But the of Oedipus was a total breeze

But still I dreamed of garnering on rave
Just believably north of God's own truth
He's a national now, and here's the proof
In the form of his label debut
A less human with each release
Closing the gap the mask and me
I swear I'd never do this, but is it
want to be that guy but it's my birthday
If everything ends the photo then I'm on my way

Ohhh-ho-o-oh

I my old guards all collapse
Blow away more violence than my cartoon
It's my father said before he croaked
"Son, you're 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 people use your fake name for So I learned to play the lead guitar (clearly)
I always more the speaking parts
there's always someone willing to
Fill up the spaces I couldn't use
Nonetheless, I've been my whole life
Washing dishes, playing drums, and by
Until I figured, if I'm here I just might
my lack of skill here in the spotlights
Maya, the of illusions, a beard, and I

2000 or so years Ovid taught
Night-blooming, teenage rosebuds, talk
And I'm a minor fascination to
Manic virginal lust and college
Well, I'm beginning to to see the end
Of how it all down between me and them
Some 10 verse chorus-less
Plays as they all jump ship, "I used to this guy
His new songs really kind of make me to die"

Ohhh-ho-oh-oh
oh-ho-ho-ho-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 most times the on
That "tell me the lies, sweet little white lies"
That when I saw the comedy won't stop for
Even little boys dying in the store
So we leave in total silence
New Year's Day, it's 6 AM
never seen a sunset this abandoned
Reminds me of the world's end
It'll be good to get more
God knows what all suckers paid
I can stop and you can write your script
But we both think now is...