Luyện nghe bài hát Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore: Pour Another Icepick

I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become like one of the

There was a syrup dripping off
His lap danced lapel, by her
Decrepit prowl she down the hatching
Gizzard as a mane of needles
His icicles hemorrhaged
By combing her to a pile
Perspired the trophy shelves made room for his
She was a mink hand job in heels

Bring me to my
the sharpened lines
All my arms,
Bled me
Faucet leaks in
Spilling from morgue
Caressed your
I've to kill every last one
last one
Panic in the of the wounded
in the worms
Onto the
And out of your
Out of eyelids

No there's no light, in the
Of furthest reaches
No no light, in the darkest
Of your reaches

All your dreams, off
Leech by on this catafalque
Anyone tell you, yes anyone
Chance had me setting a trip wire
Your mother flirted disease
she skinned that costume by it's navel strings
Panic in the shakes of the
Panic in the worms, onto the
And out of mouth
And out of your

No no light, in the darkest
Of your furthest
No there's no light, in the
Of your furthest
No there's no light, in the
Of your furthest

Shock shackles free you
Volt cons
abandon you
I won't feel not time

Shock shackles free you
face cons
abandon you
I won't not this time