Luyện nghe bài hát No City

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

There is a hole in of the shovel
in front of the brawn
Six billion gorillas for the graves yawn
with his mulish days to choose his tool of trade
Duelin blades qued a cruel charade and fuel the flames

Few would clue the crew into the
Skip the food and land you the man
who the coop over the pit-bulls
back, flashin and compassion
And now I believe this
Sat an avalanche and jagged a nautical season

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

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

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

No too high
No too far
No coma too
No city
No fire too
No city too
No treaty too
No too guard

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

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

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

No to high
No too far
No too night
No tomorrow
No fire too
No too charged
No too signed
No city too