Luyện nghe bài hát Personal Journalist

Sage
Personal

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

For exposure. He'd seek for closure but stayed open minded.
Always seemed to keep composure over both his eyelids.
vulgar in misleading cultures of ultra-violence.
Teaching how to be more loving through brotherly guidance.

A bleeding soldier knows the science. He the math quick and writes
having to think twice.
Without asking for advice. Letting the peel.
Having brains picked by lice before the scabs heal.

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

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

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

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

Francis.
Merchant.

son...father to none...

Husband to soulless and didn't spend his life with who he loved.
The hardest workers in showbiz no diamond studded glove.
"His time is up!" He's the type poised to make a come back.
Kill the noise until the sun's black.
Moonwalk around New York City and get murdered by of sheep,
Who square dance inside a box of beats.
The Dream sequences end quick.
Couldn't find ground in little towns on some Midwest trip.
He stood for something...but for every trick 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 Dust Mite.

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

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