Luyện nghe bài hát Oxygen

I'm twice born, and seven something
Once is the of honorable function
Been shoveling as the engine's doctor
Long to see my silhouette acquire a permanent kink in the posture
The maintenance of icicle spirit by the of true endearment
Was, is, and will be a luxury
I'm a sovereignty fathering doom document
Cursed version of a certain Virgin Mary occupant

[Verse
I know swamp who never suckled oxygen purification
Sure AS had them speeennnd breeezzzzze
Stuck until my leaves puppet for the plummet committee
Sputtering bum numb to stomach the city
Who's that a silhouette of willows where the hill's crest pan out?
On the candy coated crab apples, sugar dipped deadpan
I got a plan, tourniquet my quest
Then feed a needle into to mute the mess
When patience with absentee ballots I shove in the button
Strutting to mankind's hostility function
With a heave, in comparison a Mathias Goliath
to riggedy frame in a wicked silence
I top and ate my nameless creator then I bumped
With a Christ we saw the same thing through a
What's that? The grand mosaic depicting historical glory in a
Nursed me through the time and stone mixes hexed my fertile crescent
Now well, I'm laughing on the inside I swear
trying to keep my head above red tide despair
My imperfections pair off with buddy system symmetric
So every second the discontent's locked
Let's turn mummy's, show the perfection of preserved glory
And for the day a star child tugs the ribbon
Better land a two-hand grip when that full of sugar medical chaser
craves her antidote's terrible taste her
Bought her a stolen soul peddler
back feather pen
Never a grin implied health
Consider me a mobile advertisement for that plant of fabrics
I deemed practical, now is you is or is you ain't
I feel the wind in my opinions plus clutch to
Crush one's ginger bread awful,
It's like the day the great oak met the saw
A lifeline of expansion meets the reaper
At the of one mans tantrums
My friend's got a book about dreams, I look and
I dream a book about my friends and still can't the half
Ch-ch-chatter box, now let a soothsayer
Cater to a king green battered on the brink of
I am, skin and bones, I am, sin and poems, I am, tin and
Your grin and groans fuck it I'm tinted when zone
Blow the pedals off a dandelion to make my little gypsy blush
And as if I'd actually accomplish something
the bullies of the jokes soak in treatment
Sit and watch the percentages teeter on the
Brought a ghost up in the fuselage a before the cog dropped
To the and stared him down until he fixed it

OH, Fashion, it's cool and all but what about
[Oh God, well he's the man, but I MEAN about reading?]
What, like novels, man don't hold my attention, HOW about television?
[Television hurts my brain, how walking in the rain?]
OOH, I hate walking, boring, how about some old fashioned gone fishin'
[Yeah, fishing's great but JUST hooking the bait, lets dance]
NAH, I've got too feet plus motion sickness, how about breakfast?
[Man, I'm hungry, but that I'mma have to borrow some money]
Let's fly a kite burn the generals]
Let's sell lemonade drink]
Let's poke a hole inside the tugboat, ease on back and it sink
[Nah, fail a pupil once a year at random to shake the academy]
Casually note the blossom of alignment strategy

[Verse
I'll make the water fall out of in autumn
SORTA CAUGHT'EM When GUARDS mimicked the vintage knuckle drag sacked in a coffin
I affiliate my rag dummy with a most cohesive spirit
a river yesterday, ain't shed a tear since
GIMME GIMME, wrote the Old Yeller community
The carousel extravagant aware, inviting it
I'm swore to Adam and matter and
Warhead thorax and abdomen to horse back galloping
My fingers DRESSED in my talisman branded up in the jackals skin
(I SPY THE PRODUCT)
One must pardon ye old common detour
Weaving graceful through the prime column
Greater virus to allotted Valom
Bean stalk where the fiend and my name is mud
But that's got a to it so my SQUEAL welcomes the flood
I walk through practical joke on man, practically broke,
And if they raise my rent again I'll spend my practically soaked
Who spits silk dimensions through the loose by the raft?
'cause after of reasoning dead'em (it's like 3, 2, 1, bedlam)
Oh I'm hung, I've to hope but see you in hell
I'll be that clear blue icicle that refused to melt
iron grillage, tin can skeleton,
Skull of a thousand dilapidated remnants
Here to based on a tin bucket of evidence
I where the heaven's merely a legend so the peasants dream well