Luyện nghe bài hát Philosophical Significance Of Shooting My Sister In The Face. An Essay By James Secord

My name is James
Everything was
this bullet
In my sister's
Maybe then
Won't the screams
the trigger

The hurts us, the music notes
And wonder how won't be

Times are hard
Without like these
If you cry enough
Maybe they'll your screams
is rested, splattered neck
Put a in your own sister's

now
I won't be, be
'Cause I am back
cats, red dogs
Breakfast,
bread, not dead
Goodbye,

God me

With a simple
The shit is
You a dead bullet
is, everything is dull, gone, gone
Is
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