Luyện nghe bài hát Poets Of Dirt

The gone by me
disease, crying sun

Soil me, preparing to grow
Fever, disgust, dear

the truth, morals to break
Catch soon the breeze,

And if my tears were only
I would better rest in
Instead of writing my claims
To such a lonely road
A sombre to disclose

The damned poets of

Lake with sand, prayers of lies
Wishing disease, blue
Is meand our sins
Forever gone, trapped in