Luyện nghe bài hát Maps In Her Wrists And Arms

In the of powder and lace
Vultures pick at a that feeds by hand
to decay
Waits to hear the
Of their wings slowly heave as they fly
Some will stay for
maps in her wrists and arms
And the dust lies like snow the bed
Glowing white, a of bone
Or a like a crumpled, distorted moon
Shivers in her
If she too near
It shatters so quickly, leaves nothing
The old lady
Sometimes when she lifts her
The has filled with flowing sheets of silk
maps in her wrists and arms
And the morphine surges terror and bliss
In the of powder and lace
She can hear violins, watches the strings
Threading the room