Luyện nghe bài hát Shadows

Memories of shadow's me,
From the years I was young,
that used to terrify me,
Are the things, That become

There's a dark in the clouds,
fog in the swamp,
Crickets chirpping my window; the water it thumps,
In the bathroom sink the hall,
The flicker sometimes,
The wind is
The dogs are way deep in the pines,
A passing car on the distant road, The only running
Nightmares in my sleep, The Sandman is
I see the in the red cloak,
The are taking shape,
The sound of a voice, lost and full of hate,
Dry leaves under the feet of the Reaper,
The limbs tap on my window, the nails of a creature,
of goblins and fairies,
A on the prairie,
A murderer escaped, I'm disillusioned and weary,
Lightning on the hill,
the cabin,
The old man on the porch, and quietly laughing,
by demons,
I'm an angel and all want me,
And to day,

Memories of haunt me,
From the years I was young,
Things that to terrify me,
Are the things, I've become,

Cigarette butts, and oil stains on the grass,
The smell of the liquor, up from the broken glass
The crowds of black leather, The heat the engines,
Motorcycles and Goons, men and loud women,
The crackling paint, The old shack with the light,
The needles passing, Open in plain sight,
Ozzy and Sabbath, The vinyl is skipping,
From the in the kitchen,
Blood and kicking,
fills up the sky, Gasoline on the trash heap,
The is burning, I hear it popping and snapping,
The rain soaked teddy bear, so I can't lift it,
The flask for the moonshine, I watch as all sip it,
The Halloween pumpkin candle lit a Pentagram,
The Clock, with a broken minute hand,
by thieves, killers,
Thugs and junkies,
And to day,

of shadow's haunt me,
From the when I was young,
that used to terrify me,
Are the things, That become,

I throw on my leather jacket, a of biker patches,
One of them says savage, The one Black Sabbath,
tatted, barely any skin left,
Whiskey after twelve,
I'm always playing death,
shells in my yard, Loaded gun on the shelf,
Run the roads like a wolf, the whole Bible Belt,
Rattlesnake skin boots, up on the chopper,
Fifty Harleys me, They all ready to slaughter,
Drunk in of my sons,
in front of my daughter,
Spit, cuss, and I yell,
It's like a quarter,
'Cause I'm heads up. no matter which way you flip it,
No brake lights in my life, I'm rich or evicted,
to my convictions,
Committed crimes the quitters,
Connected to my religion, The of sinners,
a prayer to god,
Exhaling off the Meth pipe,
Like puddles the ripples echo to next life,
So here I am standing like the ashes that fell from the fire,
A that fell off that poisonous and forgotten flower,
my own nightmare,
But now I think charming,
when,

Memories of shadow's me,
From the when I was young,
that used to terrify me,
Are the things, That I've