Luyện nghe bài hát Personal Journalist

Sage
Journalist

He left with deep breaths in each chest that needs innovating,
Because they're still over what "rhyme skill" is.
Got Sick of Waiting...for time killers to get over their raps.
Then he sold his own off his back

For cheap exposure. seek for closure but stayed open minded.
Always seemed to keep composure peeking over his eyelids.
Speaking in misleading cultures of ultra-violence.
Teaching others how to be more loving through guidance.

A bleeding soldier knows the science. He does the quick and writes
Without to think twice.
Without asking for advice. the scalps peel.
Having picked by head lice before the scabs heal.

His death conceals his face paint.
It feels a safe place, but it ain't.
Feels it safety seals fates, but it don't.
He's not a real saint. another one of those religious, political jokes.

And that's not half of the nutshell cats are compelled
to crack open to his blood cells from.
When he back from hell again,
You'll have a few to pick with a fractured skeleton.

Francis
Anti-socialite.
Admirer.
Loaner.
Drifter.
Bootlegger.
Doctor.
Referentialist.
Runner.
Journalist.

Word is the worthless wordsmiths were conversing twists.
Heard concerned with making the Earth shift.
These kid games are silly. When all art is anonymous,
He'll turn Big Bang Theory into a Small Pop Hypothesis.

Francis.
Merchant.

son...father to none...

Husband to something soulless and didn't spend his life who he loved.
The workers in showbiz need no diamond studded glove.
"His time is up!" He's still the type poised to a come back.
Kill the white until the sun's black.
Moonwalk around New York and get murdered by flocks of sheep,
Who dance circles inside a box of beats.
The California sequences end quick.
find middle ground in little towns on some Midwest trip.
He stood for something...but fell for every in the book, so he stopped believing...
In an garden of Eden.
"Get off the cross!" Of course we need the wood to a Godless heathen.
Catch him red handed...only if his are bleeding.

Sage
Non-Prophet.
Intelligent.
Avant Guardian Angel Mite.

It's been a pleasure. It's been a

But get out of my weathered with all that sunshine
Get out my face with all that sunshine
Get out my weathered face all that sunshine
Get out my face.