Luyện nghe bài hát Maintenance

[Aesop
that for me...thanks

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

[Aesop
Well any asshole with a book of matches can a fire fresh
Make that sucker for days, I'll be impressed
Circlin past the bigot, procreation baked in advanceable
Then and scurry up the grass to roll his marbles off the anthill
I gerth and nature but recognize absentee ballot
And ballads couldn't fill the void
This game's in the giant Tugboat Complex and ANNOYED!
(No one's asking you to the narc, brother!)
Hmm, fashion
I'll find my own bullies to shake a wrapped in
mine knives in divine justice
Plus this uncontrollable laugh with those ample waves of brain finally
Brimstone clone legs and dim poems
Ten little Zen
cooperate like paper dog participants litigans
Picket well or ride or burner clinic
Acid the basics
P-H imbalance to burn the martyrs spaceless
Then daytrips
I want to be the halo that off the brain
Of the genius who some pictures deserved frames
(God and I are on a first basis)
Yeah I call him God, he calls me
I lost my religion, he fell to pieces
Blade, dragon, up creek
Interrupting a devil
Starfighter settling to
I my ghoul spirit concealed
Until the warriors return to the Coney Isle Wheel

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

voice] 4x
One, two, one, two, three,

[Aesop
Okay, tell me who you chill and I'll tell you who you are
I walk a mile with a attached to your freak seminar
It's a sensation on the boulevard of maintenance
To sweep your broken hopes under the rugs hug the playpen
This revolution pushing through the loose pins and a jacket
A classed in a bunk category
They had him parallel with a tattered division
(I could devil drink out of thermos)
Yeah, with a afterburn
It's like, nine wake (I'm up) spit obscentities
My girl ties on my cape, smoke a bone work my dental tree
The day's laced with a classic mother nature thunderchaser set
That got my wings wet
Voyeurist lack expansive coverage in the syllabus
I dance with shuckles you man the keyhole grilling code
I've my chores according to God's schedule
coffee holding the wheel and nicotine working the pedals
Metal kings that tends to rapel the pebble
Kettle screaching out the
I live to autograph the iron curtain with doveback pens
Spurting magma, cursing urns to burn until my Cleopatra
Minor (Major) slap on the wrist
For the lacking the arms to harbor the rarity of thick friendship
Stuck a "Yes sir"
Change of to ankle
Each the angle
I'ma call home until the rock meets the

4x

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