Luyện nghe bài hát Limbs

The texture of the soul is a liquid that casts a vermilion
From a wound carved as an oath; it fills the bank a sanguine fog
These arms were to be lost! Hacked, severed and forgotten
The texture of time is a whisper that echoes the flood
It's resonates from tree to tree, through every sullen bough it sings
These boughs were said to be lost! Torn, and broken
Earth to flesh, to wood, cast these limbs into the water
to wood, wood to stone, cast this stone into the water...