Luyện nghe bài hát Powerline Days

I can't but see it all now:
The dance of dominance and the submissive rites- a muzzle for the face of love.
And a small script written for your and daughters. I am the bar-fly swatter.
This awkward and mindless of predictable outcomes.
Don't mistake my yawns for songs.

The daughter of the oil painter and the tone-deaf son of the cellist:
Won't you tell us of the love that you up?
You said the thought of me you so thin,
Was I the reason you stopped eating

To buy you a drink and to take you home, there was a knight in rusted
on cue and playing safe, you held your breath from car to lake
Check your phone and paint face.
It's a and a fairytale.

It me feel
Regular and domestic to love on others and outlines, the definitions of the unexceptional
To love like a kite-string in a bad tense and conductive.
To break and fray like the of the rats in the race.
Turn ceilings to and lose yourself in the throes
If it all that we are to find a heart and home, well that's how we'll go.

Does it feel like this part's been out? Like you've been here before?
Stuck in a snowglobe, 20 now, getting shook-up.
The headlines on their faces say absolutely greener,
But all I see is concrete so I'm not what they mean.
How it feel?

I you feel so
and domestic to love on others terms and outlines, The definitions of the unexceptional
To love like a kite-string in a bad tense and conductive.
To break and fray, break in wild and carry to the irregular.
The domestic who live inside of terms and will love the way that's expected.
Like a to be paid.
crack in the paint.
Another bird that its song of flight but lives its life of powerline days.