Luyện nghe bài hát Live At The Apocalypse Cabaret

Scarecrow, you me.
Now I've caught my hands in the machine.
They fed my to the lions;
they me watch it on the television.
Scarecrow, your blackbird wives,
I was promised you'd come and my life.
They chased me down with the son,
our brains out with an oil drum.
The map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neck ties...

But scarecrow, I'm alive.
Who sewed me back together to watch the whole world
me stumble on the cobblestones.
Mothers, grab your children, comes the town drunk.
Scarecrow, they my wife.
tied her to an oak in a field of rye.
They flood the field kerosene;
as the moths ate the their faces beamed.
The bald-eyed map of the is knitting tiny neck ties..

And the Graveyard flies over us.
The host walks the plank.
The verse of the day is, "Baby heads planted in the ground don't make trees. Thank you, goodnight."

Scarecrow, did you hear about the
they found off in the confession booth?
His spinning like a top
he so pathetic crying to the cops.
Scarecrow, did you hear the man who locked his daughter
in the for 12 years?
dragged her out of the house to the hungry audience.
The cross-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting neck ties.
The bald-eyed map of the is knitting tiny noose ties.
The wild-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny lies.