Luyện nghe bài hát No City

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

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

Few would clue the crew into the
Skip the and land like you the man
who flew the coop the pit-bulls
Dash back, flashin and
And now I don't this
Sat beneath an avalanche and jagged a nautical

And I will stop the violence than I was Pontious Pilot
Cops and riot by the thoughts of noxious sirens
'A' as in you figure all man equal no brainer
Take at his friends and neighbors 'er

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

The should fit the reasons you must punish him
Never puncture skin or the colored rugs from under them
Two opposing mother ships shall not the gunners deck
brotherhoods of public good do not employ the unctuous
And you. observe and the givetheth disproportionate
To the taketh away to maketh his day (do it)
All the stubborn odium 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 treaty too
No too guard

I picked the up with a grown-up mode approach
crawlin off the drawl and now I claw the awkward tone-em
I'd known it roses
But it was less corrosive
to the focus of the grossest diagnosis
Like homes, the that chew upon the flesh of man
clued into the suitor was capital to a beggar sand
And uncomfortably. sung a legacy of gluttony
With carnivores that burrow like hunters into the in meat
umm,

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

All kings em for the cliffs side drip dry
Will he the zip line or slip for his final dip dive?
If he will he survive the milligrams of middle-ground
They pump into the pin-stripped pentagrams Tinsel-town
Or a man who trickled down the city with his scissors out
Or sickles, in military hells, bells and whistles
Riders to the east, not a wild
Thank you for the peace on earth and mercy height

No mountain to
No too far
No coma too
No tomorrow
No too live
No city too
No too signed
No city too