Luyện nghe bài hát Little Death

Now it out
Like a in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at wedding
Sam Sam
Band pushed upon the finger of hairiest hand
If sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well you wicked
is life
Odd as Egg McMuffins at
No answers, so let us watch dancers
Structure reformed gracefully born
On the of dark greys, concaves and spirals
Kaleidoscope a Eiffel
It then it tidals
then it virals
Babylons it Bibles and others
And tell me of the mothers
And mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered the cummerbunds of butlers

How was your day, can I make you say
I wanna hear, cause I want you here
The hell that we raised to the do anything for
La petite mort, la petite

They keep the bottles just to glass houses
Then climb up to the second and throw rocks out it
Then expect not a volley in
Some place like prolly in the eye
What of the what is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some inhumane so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its demise pulled all of the from the fat
And made it flat and rather
Well a place that has a stunning [?]
And more murdered Pisces
But barbaric are the prices
It's niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices
My son will call rices
If and when he's to his own devices, well
How is memory?
Is it returning a lemon tree
To bitter fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' like permission am I trippin' like
I feel I'm but maybe the transmission
left out the life, also left out the will, grief
Will cheese never touch your
Maybe like beef
Is it real, is it real, is it
Ha, hah!

How at the date can I make you my
Cause I want you dear, ooh, I want you
The hell that we raised to the heavens [?] for
Our mort, our petite mort

So glad back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the in collapse?
in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon ridden goons consumed and mad soon
The attended years slowly fills with
That monkey business
Where killers go free cause a junkie's a witness
Runny mascaras from the cunning wearers of death
errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
Separated by a sea of cooling num
Reminiscing of an day playing hum drum
Where recognition unnoticed
And then solidified it was stoic
We been poets
Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of pentameter

How are your chains, do make you behave
Keep you over here, by overseer
Fallen from down from heaven to memories [?]
La petite mort, la petite