Luyện nghe bài hát Oxygen

I'm twice born, once and seven
Once is the resurrection of function
shoveling coal as the engine's doctor
Long to see my silhouette acquire a permanent kink in the posture
The maintenance of icicle spirit by the warmth of true
Was, is, and forever be a luxury
I'm a sovereignty fathering doom document
Cursed version of a Virgin Mary womb occupant

[Verse
I know swamp rats who never oxygen purification
Sure AS blurry had speeennnd breeezzzzze
Stuck until my leaves puppet for the plummet committee
Sputtering bum numb enough to the city
Who's that hugging a silhouette of where the hill's crest pan out?
On the candy coated apples, sugar dipped deadpan outs
I got a plan, I'll my quest
Then feed a needle battling to mute the mess
When patience with absentee ballots I shove in the button
Strutting to exhibit mankind's hostility
a heave, paling in comparison a Mathias Goliath
Live to frame in a wicked silence
I top and ate my nameless creator I bumped eyelids
With a Christ we saw the same thing a second
What's The grand mosaic depicting historical glory in a legend
Nursed me through the time stick and stone mixes my fertile crescent
Now all's well, I'm on the inside I swear
Just trying to keep my above red tide despair
My imperfections pair off with buddy system symmetric
So every second the locked accordingly
Let's turn mummy's, the perfection of preserved glory condition
And pray for the day a star child tugs the
Better land a grip when that spoon full of sugar medical chaser
Credible craves her antidote's terrible her
Bought her with a stolen soul
Pigeon feather pen
Never said a grin health
Consider me a mobile for that hybrid plant of fabrics
I deemed practical, now is you is or is you ain't
I feel the wind in my opinions hyper clutch to
Crush one's ginger bread awful,
It's the day the great oak met the saw mill
A lifeline of spectacular expansion meets the
At the hand of one mans
My friend's got a book about dreams, I and laugh
I dream a book about my friends and still can't the half
Ch-ch-chatter box, now let a major
to a king green battered on the brink of disease
I am, skin and bones, I am, sin and poems, I am, tin and
Your grin and fuck it I'm tinted when accrete zone
Blow the off a dandelion trying to make my little gypsy blush
And felt as if I'd actually something
Fortify the bullies of the jokes in treatment
Sit and watch the percentages teeter on the
a ghost up in the fuselage a second before the cog dropped
To the and stared him down until he fixed it

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

[Verse
I'll make the fall out of order 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
Cried a river yesterday, ain't shed a since
GIMME GIMME, wrote the Old Yeller cartoon
The ballooned extravagant aware, inviting it
I'm swore to Adam and and saddling
Warhead and abdomen to primitive horse back galloping
My index fingers DRESSED in my branded up in the jackals skin
(I SPY THE PRODUCT)
One pardon ye old common sheep detour
Weaving graceful through the directive column
Greater virus retreats to Valom
Bean stalk where the fiend and my name is mud
But that's got a ring to it so my welcomes the flood
I walk through practical joke on man, practically broke,
And if they raise my rent again I'll spend my nights soaked
Who spits silk dimensions through the noose by the raft?
'cause after lack of reasoning dead'em (it's 3, 2, 1, bedlam)
Oh I'm hung, clung to hope but see you in hell
be that clear blue icicle that simply refused to melt
Sturdy grillage, tin can skeleton,
of a thousand dilapidated dream remnants
Here to convict based on a tin of evidence
I steer where the heaven's a legend so the peasants dream well