Luyện nghe bài hát Republic of Heaven

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

We wane in remembrance, by our scorn.
The flocks of the throttled, forlorn.
We gasp epiphany, perception unmasked.
Ranks of black muslin out path.

empties on our woeful malaise,
Engulfs and entwines our parade.
These are the embers, the ideal,
The end of our allow us to feel.
Nerves tender to touch makes us cry.
We see these windows now become eyes.

Our burden is as we ascend.
blemished flesh the earth seems to rent.
Pustules of faces, mouths crevasse,
Our weathered coherence to morass.

empties on our woeful malaise,
Engulfs and entwines our parade.
These are the embers, the ideal,
The end of our allow us to feel.
Nerves remain to touch makes us cry.
We see these windows now become eyes.

Our are paid to this epoch,
Sanctimonious, no remorse.
The is dead!
We his face! Cut off his head!
We spit at thee, we at thee.
The is dead!
and sisters, the king is dead!
Cut him down, his skin, the king is dead!
Our god is dead!

Courtisans! Compatriots! Lend me ears,
We slayed demagogue dragged it to its knees.
We cut all the sycophants deafened call,
We gave the willing to better us all.
We will not go quiet, we not be restrained,
We will not be to an impotent regieme.
Mark this in remembrance, the of tides.
Our republic born of [his] demise.

The nativity!
Our elegy!
To reform!

empties on our woeful malaise,
Engulfs and entwines our parade.
are the embers, the fetid ideal,
The end of our chastity us to feel.
Nerves remain tender to makes us cry.
We see through these windows now eyes.