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

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

me to my knees
Read the sharpened
All my arms,
Bled me
Faucet leaks in
Spilling morgue lancet
Caressed your
I've sworn to every last one
Every one
in the shakes of the wounded
Panic in the
the floor
And out of mouth
Out of your

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

All your dreams, off
by leech on this catafalque
Anyone will you, yes anyone
had me setting a trip wire alarm
Your mother flirted disease
When she that costume by it's navel strings
Panic in the shakes of the
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 there's no light, in the
Of your furthest
No there's no light, in the
Of furthest reaches

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

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