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

I think I've like 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 frail syrup off
His lap danced lapel, by her
Decrepit prowl she down the hatching
soft as a mane of needles
His orifice hemorrhaged
By her torso to a pile
the trophy shelves made room for his collapse
She was a mink job in sarcophagus heels

me to my knees
Read the sharpened
All my arms,
me blind
Faucet leaks in
from morgue lancet
Caressed fontanelle
I've sworn to kill every one
Every one
Panic in the of the wounded
Panic in the
the floor
And out of mouth
Out of eyelids

No no light, in the darkest
Of your reaches
No no light, in the darkest
Of furthest reaches

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

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

Shock shackles free you
Volt cons
you again
I feel not this time

lest shackles free you
Volt cons
you again
I won't feel not time