Luyện nghe bài hát Maintenance

[Aesop
Count for me...thanks

[Robotic 4x
One, two, one, two, three,

Rock]
Well any asshole with a book of can light a fire fresh
Make that sucker burn for days, I'll be
past the culture's bigot, procreation baked in advanceable
Then ball and scurry up the grass to roll his off the anthill
I know gerth and nature but recognize ballot
And sappy ballads couldn't the void
This game's in the giant Tugboat and HE'S ANNOYED!
(No one's asking you to the narc, brother!)
Hmm, fashion
find my own bullies to shake a finger wrapped in
Realigned mine knives in justice
Plus this uncontrollable laugh with those ample waves of brain finally
Brimstone clone with and dim poems
Ten Zen crafts
Things cooperate like dog participants litigans
Picket well or ride or burner clinic
with the basics
P-H imbalance to burn the malice spaceless
fabricate daytrips
I want to be the halo that off the brain
Of the genius who decided pictures deserved frames
(God and I are on a first basis)
Yeah I call him God, he calls me
When I lost my religion, he to pieces
Blade, dragon, up creek
Interrupting a devil
settling to madness
I keep my ghoul spirit
Until the warriors to the Coney Isle Wonder Wheel

4x
My momma me there'd be days like this
like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

[Robotic 4x
One, two, one, two, three,

[Aesop
Okay, tell me who you chill with and tell you who you are
I walk a mile a leash attached to your freak seminar
a modern sensation on the boulevard of maintenance
To sweep broken hopes under the rugs then hug the playpen
This revolution pushing through the pins and a strait jacket
A maverick in a bunk category
had him parallel with a tattered glory division
(I could devil drink out of thermos)
Yeah, with a whiskey
It's like, nine o'clock wake (I'm up) spit
My girl ties on my cape, smoke a bone then work my dental
The clear day's with a classic mother nature thunderchaser set
got my papergrain's wings wet
Voyeurist amendments lack expansive in the syllabus
I dance with shuckles while you man the grilling code
I've done my chores to God's schedule
With coffee holding the wheel and nicotine the pedals
Metal edge kings that tends to rapel the
screaching out the operetta
I live to autograph the iron curtain with feather pens
Spurting magma, cursing television to burn until my Cleopatra
Minor (Major) dispersed on the wrist
For the lacking the arms to harbor the rarity of thick friendship
with a "Yes sir"
Change of to ankle
beneath the angle
I'ma call until the rock meets the angels

4x

[Robotic voice] to fade*
One, two, one, two, three,