Luyện nghe bài hát No City

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

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

Few would the crew into the civil
the food and land like you the man
who flew the coop over the
back, flashin and compassion
And now I don't this
Sat beneath an avalanche and jagged a nautical

And I stop the violence more than I was Pontious Pilot
Cops and robbers riot by the thoughts of sirens
'A' as in gullible you figure all man no brainer
Take at his friends and neighbors '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 cloth has said his and when in doubt, doubt

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

No too high
No too far
No coma too
No tomorrow
No too live
No city too
No treaty too
No too guard

I picked the phone up with a mode approach
Skin crawlin off the drawl and now I claw the tone-em
I'd known it wasn't
But hoped it was less
Coastin to the focus of the grossest
Like homes, the barnacles that chew upon the of man
Have clued the suitor was capital to a beggar sand
And uncomfortably. a stubborn legacy of gluttony
With carnivores burrow like hunters into the blood in meat
umm,

Jenny chin-up and the city picked 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 wider the driver
If you make no on the way to the top rung
There is no secret handshake club I do not 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 or slip for his final dip dive?
If he live he survive the milligrams of middle-ground
They into the pin-stripped pentagrams over Tinsel-town
Or kill a man who trickled down the with his scissors out
Or sickles, dipped in hells, bells and whistles
Riders to the east, not a tribes
Thank you for the peace on earth and mercy milds

No to high
No too far
No too night
No city
No fire too
No too charged
No treaty too
No too guard