Luyện nghe bài hát Rat's Ass/Customs

Standin' on the of the road with a long shadow and suitcases,
nowhere, and I don't care, I'm a grown man.
Hold my own hand, my own ass for cryin',
I'm on the inside, they don't know who I am.
Filthy, fraught, and by a guilty conscience,
runnin' away, and all of silly nonsense.
Gone - God knows when,
and I aint comin' back knowin' that, no one gives a ass anyway.

I wanna find a place where I can sit in a rocking chair,
no matter how far, even if it means there.
Maybe I'll get me a dog for company,
it's better tryin' to figure out somebody.
Give me a good book, a radio, and a machine,
a place in the by the ocean and no inbetween.
I get rid of these dark circles and headaches,
Maybe if I meditate, rather medicate.
I can no hesitate, I get so frantic,
but what if my wishes are romantic.
Though, the suns too low in the sky for second guesses I
and I'm used to chances.
Breakin' a few branches, and gettin' now and then,
findin' some trouble, was just a of how and when.
And now I take notes, and make from Burch bark
but still shows in my face like a birthmark.
As soon as I get where I'm going I'm going to wash my hands
and getting out of bed earlier.
it's curious the way I've vicariously,
to fly so low to the and so carelessly.
How embarassing, I can't to call it quits,
that more and more tiring is all it gets.
I've various and unique strategies,
Read a few tragedies and fasted for two weeks.
Been rollin'
in the hole in the
no surprise both my
are swollen shut, I'm with no supplies.

I a lift...

What have I