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

There was a syrup dripping off
His lap lapel, punctuated by her
Decrepit prowl she down the hatching
Gizzard soft as a mane of
His orifice icicles
By combing her torso to a
Perspired the trophy shelves made for his collapse
She was a mink hand job in heels

Bring me to my
Read the lines
All my arms,
Bled me
leaks in shadows
Spilling from lancet
your fontanelle
I've to kill every last one
last one
Panic in the shakes of the
in the worms
Onto the
And out of your
Out of your

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

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

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

Shock lest free you
Volt face
you again
I won't not this time

Shock lest free you
face cons
abandon you
I won't feel not this