Luyện nghe bài hát Progress

Sear the throbbing in our
heads, now we in our blood
beds. Rid of God, the
crutch, our broken don't hurt
so much.

Reaching forward, back, the
more we progress, the we lack.

At we built a sun right on
the ground. At we won. Use
the pretty, the rest, it's evolution
at its best.

Lay in beds of anger, in our
sleep. Mumble of vengeance,
songs of peace.

The of our progress is the
burning of the weak. The is
self-inflicted as we speak!