Luyện nghe bài hát Oxygen

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

[Verse
I swamp rats who never suckled oxygen purification
AS blurry had them speeennnd breeezzzzze
Stuck until my friend leaves for the plummet committee
Sputtering bum numb enough to stomach the
Who's that hugging a silhouette of willows where the hill's pan out?
On the coated crab apples, sugar dipped deadpan outs
I got a plan, tourniquet my quest
Then feed a needle battling to mute the mess
When patience galas with absentee I shove in the button
Strutting to mankind's hostility function
With a heave, paling in comparison a Mathias
Live to riggedy frame in a silence
I top and ate my creator then I bumped eyelids
With a Christ we saw the same through a second
that? The grand mosaic depicting historical glory in a legend
Nursed me through the time and stone mixes hexed my fertile crescent
Now all's well, I'm laughing on the I swear
Just trying to keep my above red tide despair
My imperfections pair off with system symmetric morbidly
So second the discontent's locked accordingly
Let's turn mummy's, the perfection of preserved glory condition
And for the day a star child tugs the ribbon
Better land a two-hand grip when that spoon of sugar medical chaser
Credible craves her antidote's taste her
Bought her with a stolen peddler
back feather pen
Never said a implied health
Consider me a advertisement for that hybrid plant of fabrics
I deemed practical, now is you is or is you compatible?
I the wind in my opinions plus hyper clutch to
one's ginger bread tenement awful,
It's like the day the oak met the saw mill
A lifeline of spectacular expansion meets the
At the hand of one tantrums
My got a book about dreams, I look and laugh
I dream a book my friends and still can't decipher the half
Ch-ch-chatter box, now let a major
Cater to a king green on the brink of disease
I am, and bones, I am, sin and poems, I am, tin and chrome
Your grin and groans it I'm tinted when accrete zone
Blow the pedals off a dandelion trying to my little gypsy blush
And as if I'd actually accomplish something
Fortify the of the jokes soak in treatment
Sit and the percentages teeter on the evening
a ghost up in the fuselage a second before the cog dropped
To the Styx and stared him until he fixed it

OH, Fashion, cool and all but what about God?
[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 my brain, how about walking in the rain?]
OOH, I hate walking, it's boring, how about some old fashioned fishin'
[Yeah, fishing's great but JUST HATE hooking the bait, lets
NAH, I've got too left feet plus motion sickness, how about
[Man, I'm hungry, but that means I'mma have to some money]
Let's fly a kite burn the generals]
sell lemonade [Let's drink]
Let's poke a hole inside the tugboat, ease on and watch it sink
[Nah, lets fail a pupil a year at random to shake the academy]
Casually note the blossom of alignment strategy

[Verse
I'll make the water fall out of order in
SORTA CAUGHT'EM When their GUARDS mimicked the vintage drag sacked in a coffin
I affiliate my rag dummy with a most cohesive spirit
Cried a yesterday, ain't shed a tear since
GIMME GIMME, the Old Yeller community cartoon
The carousel ballooned aware, inviting it
I'm swore to and matter and saddling
Warhead thorax and abdomen to horse back galloping
My index fingers DRESSED in my talisman branded up in the jackals
(I SPY THE PRODUCT)
One must pardon ye old common sheep
Weaving graceful through the directive column
Greater retreats to allotted 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 through God's practical joke on man, practically broke,
And if they raise my rent again spend my nights practically soaked
Who spits silk dimensions the loose noose by the raft?
'cause after lack of reasoning (it's like 3, 2, 1, bedlam)
Oh I'm hung, clung 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 convict based on a tin of evidence
I steer where the heaven's merely a legend so the peasants well