Luyện nghe bài hát Qualms of Reality

Redundant
are shoveled into enclosed solitude
In lack of value by minor defects
Each one an unsuitability the publics field of vision

Left to die on a bed of
the rich swallows ostentation
Distorted screaming for consolation
The vanity of rules the world

up, who cares about rights
So what if the a bit rude
The prosperous, pay to it concealed
Leaving problems because of fear

Abandoned
Hundreds in a room, staring with empty swollen
possibilities
Enslaved by

The belligerent of the leaders
Strangles the subjected right to a childhood of
but for real for ever engraved
In the minds of infancies

out
From this dying world of

A thousand souls a day away with the breeze

Living corpses, breathing filled with disease
Underdeveloped thoughts, trying to understand
secluded by the prevailing injustices
That pushes this mentally ill world over the of acceptance

Locked up, who cares rights
So if the world's a bit rude
The prosperous, pay to keep it
Leaving problems untouched because of

Death inside, without freedom
Bound to feel, within illness
Souls in penury, soon to fade in charge
Bemoan oppression, carnage behind walls of uncertainty
We'll realize as the floods of come down