Luyện nghe bài hát Little Death

Now it out
Like a in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, at Sarah's wedding
Sam Sam
pushed upon the finger of Sam's hairiest hand
If that you, you a bigot
If it well then you wicked
Such is
Odd as Egg at night
No answers, so let us watch dancers
Structure gracefully being born
On the pallet of dark greys, concaves and
Kaleidoscope into a
It then it tidals
Vacillates it virals
Babylons then it and others
And tell me of the mothers
And today's for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the of butlers

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

They keep the bottles just to make houses
Then climb up to the floors and throw rocks out it
expect not a volley in reply
Some place vulnerable like in the eye
What of the what is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some inhumane conditions so it didn't go
And attention from its pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather
Well there's a place has a stunning [?]
And more mercifully Pisces
But are still the prices
It's rather niceless, in dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto
If and when he's to his own devices, well
How is your
Is it returning a lemon tree
To bear fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' permission am I trippin' like Phil
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe the
Still left out the life, left 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 can I make you my break
I want you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The that we raised to the heavens make [?] for
Our mort, our petite mort

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

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