Luyện nghe bài hát No City

For want of a nail the shoe was
For want of a the horse was lost
For want of a horse the rider was
For want of a the battle was lost
For want of a battle the kingdom was
And all for the of a horseshoe..

is a hole in front of the shovel
Shovel in of the brawn
Six billion gorillas for whom the graves
Each his mulish days to choose his tool of trade
Duelin blades that qued a charade and fuel the flames

Few would the crew into the civil
Skip the food and land you the man
who flew the coop the pit-bulls
Dash back, and compassion
And now I believe this
Sat beneath an avalanche and jagged a season

And I will stop the more than I was Pontious Pilot
and robbers riot by the thoughts of noxious sirens
'A' as in gullible you all man equal no brainer
Take at his friends and dedicate 'er

Moms raised the babies a very churchy '80s
Sunday mornings reinforce the game to Hades
Any brazen but apparently now
For when a man of has said his wrongs and when in doubt, doubt

The punishment should fit the reasons you punish him
Never puncture skin or pull the colored rugs from them
Two opposing mother ships not employ the gunners deck
'Cause brotherhoods of public good do not employ the
And you. and have the givetheth disproportionate
To the taketh decide to maketh his day (do it)
All the odium glowin a coal host
To where he coulda stood easily in the tub jugglin

No mountain too
No too far
No coma too
No tomorrow
No fire too
No too charged
No too signed
No city too

I picked the phone up with a grown-up approach
Skin crawlin off the drawl and now I the awkward tone-em
I'd it wasn't roses
But it was less corrosive
Coastin to the of the grossest diagnosis
Like homes, the that chew upon the flesh of man
Have clued into the suitor was to a beggar sand
And uncomfortably. sung a legacy of gluttony
With carnivores that burrow hunters into the blood in meat
umm,

Jenny chin-up and the city picked this in a pent-up numbed the spitting stigma
came a spider, sold a (regs) to any buyer
How to shoot a ringer back with six legs wider the driver
If you make no friends on the way to the top
There is no handshake club I do not give a fuck
But know the cancers make the branches obviously standard
So when they extend from the Yatson mansions your canons

All hang em for the cliffs side drip dry
Will he clip the zip or slip for his final dip dive?
If he live will he the milligrams of middle-ground
They pump into the pin-stripped pentagrams over
Or a man who trickled down the city with his scissors out
Or sickles, dipped in military hells, and whistles
to the east, not a wild tribes
Thank you for the peace on earth and milds height

No to high
No too far
No coma too
No city
No too live
No too charged
No treaty too
No too guard