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

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

There was a frail syrup off
His lap lapel, punctuated by her
Decrepit she washed down the hatching
Gizzard as a mane of needles
His orifice hemorrhaged
By combing her to a pile
Perspired the trophy shelves made room for his
She was a mink hand job in sarcophagus

Bring me to my
Read the sharpened
All my arms,
Bled me
Faucet in shadows
from morgue lancet
Caressed your
I've sworn to kill last one
last one
Panic in the shakes of the
in the worms
Onto the
And out of mouth
Out of your

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

All dreams, splintered off
Leech by on this catafalque
Anyone will you, yes anyone
Chance had me setting a trip wire
Your mother flirted with
When she that costume by it's navel strings
Panic in the of the wounded
Panic in the worms, onto the
And out of mouth
And out of eyelids

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

Shock lest free you
Volt face
abandon you
I won't feel not time

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