Luyện nghe bài hát Leaving LA

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

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

A few things the songwriter
of Love, a mask of Tragedy
But if you want ecstasy or birth
run the tap until the water's cold
Anything else you can get
A myth or a .45
You're going to one or the other to survive
Where only the armed or the funny make it out alive Mara taunts me the tree
She's like, "Oh great, that's just what we all
Another guy in 2017
Who takes himself seriously"
She's not far off, the thing is
That's pretty much what I thought I started this
It took me all my life to to the play the G
But the role of Oedipus was a total

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

Ohhh-ho-o-oh

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

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

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

My first memory of music's
The time at with my mom
The watermelon I was choking on
screaming, "someone help my son"
I it most times the radio's on
That "tell me the lies, sweet white lies" song
That when I first saw the comedy stop for
little boys dying in the department store
So we leave in total silence
New Day, it's 6 o'clock AM
I've seen a sunset this abandoned
Reminds me predictably of the end
It'll be good to get more
God what all these suckers paid
I can stop drinking and you can your script
But what we think now is...