Luyện nghe bài hát Little Death

Now it out
Like a finger in the back of your
and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's wedding
Sam Sam
Band pushed upon the finger of Sam's hand
If sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well then you
Such is
Odd as Egg at night
No answers, so let us these dancers
Structure reformed gracefully being
On the pallet of dark greys, and spirals
Kaleidoscope into a
It then it tidals
Vacillates then it
Babylons then it Bibles and
And tell me of the mothers
And today's for beloved
And bellies covered like the cummerbunds of butlers

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

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

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

So glad you're back, but not glad at that glad
is the glamor in collapse?
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of wounds
ridden goons consumed and driven mad soon
The attended years slowly with baboons
That other monkey
Where killers go free a junkie's a funky witness
mascaras from the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' two oil derricks
by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day hum drum
recognition went unnoticed
And then solidified it was stoic
We should've been
Somewhere amateurs and grandmasters of iambic pentameter

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