Luyện nghe bài hát Sleep of the Just

Lift up your head, lift up your
room in this decade of eathquake and bile
awaits you like a mortuary smile

You'll all the fun, you'll miss all the fun
A rich man turned pauper, his marked [a sham]
I can't get back to see it, 'til you lift up your

Me and mine are fools, me and mine are
say our elders who despise us, though no longer young
They're tired of our sneering, and we've out their main street's sun

They're sleeping as we rise, one punch is drunk with
resides in [brutal face], sick from petrol smoke and
The few bohemians, with their too-white wrists
confide in some [page]
and pray to look cute in their squalor-dyed
Old age

Rolled out of here, is sun and clear
and we hold the fortune, in our
There's nothing else on earth that I will be of
Why a lifetime on soil which won't bear fruit?
and why argue with gangsters who only and act mute?
If he pulls that trigger, as he he must,
then to them, goes the last [and then]
The sleep of the just, the of the just, the sleep of the just

But that's never
But that's never, enough