Luyện nghe bài hát Lonely Solipsist

Parrot, squatting on your throne, captured, are you?
Foot-soldered concrete in basement, alone.
relinquished. Fictive molecules revolt.
Soliloquies like apparition of a long ghost.

Solipsist, sculpture squatting in a cell!

Anchored pedometry, throne.
Posture vocal like your inflective prose, philosophy, encrypted psychiatry.

Powers of rendition on a world, a pawn.
Monet inclination for thoughts spoken heard.
Tragic auditorium for one soul.
Manas in transcendence an infinite cosmos.

Destruction.
Destruction is the creation so, your children, dont regret.

Like to their divine inventions, like all to the planet.
So, Lonely Solipsist, what floods my eyes?
Bituminoid lucidity, in lumens, hides.
What would happen if trompe-loeil was exposed?
One stacked up eight heads high in perfect proportion.

Gravid crush the skulls in savage rebellion.
by observation, translated erudition, so many creators cognitively collide like a pride of pan-psychics.
Upon whom redounds this insistent obloquy? Power of observer granted power of intent. The Painters brush the words, the sinners repent.
I declare this pen a syringe! foreign brains!

Obligor base knowledge on fiction anyways.
Pass the blame like nested Russian Dolls, inertly decaying. Smite the epiphenomenalism! Erase bound to faith!