Luyện nghe bài hát Psalm

Oh hair of dread, the is here.
Thirty-three, the sheep draw near with so keen
they cannot all the lies that buy their ears.
Oh, horsepants, chest.
Oh, sex ghost. Oh, of neck.
The are crashing on her breasts.
The bed is out again.
If it's sad, you it' true.
God is on bluer moons.
When room is all you do, it comes to you.
Oh, my ink instrument,
row my boat towards abstinence thoughts as long as cigarettes.
Snowed in lips and protect.
Oh, birdlike appetite.
Lo, passive fasts us contrite?
On silken of the night,
the spiders my candlelight,
where the sun in space.
God is dumb, god is great.
But does he us all the same?
Are we OK?
And I cried out your name because I loved the it made
and because I wait to see your face.
And nothing was the same.
And the stars say, "Look my eyes."
But I can't if it's only in my mind.
And I you but I don't have the right.
And I you so bad tonight.