Luyện nghe bài hát Some Crap About The Future

You spread your rusty across the ledge.
You get your grip and down over the edge.
You watch the city and breathe and migrate.
You're not apart of it. You're broken now, us.

I turn and the birds from off my shoulders.
And cross side-walks with an of white noise.

You sit up on perch for the rest of the night.
You the moon and hope the damn thing crumbles.
You count the stars in the windows.
And then you realize how minimal you are.

I stop and the airplanes leave the city.
And I silently I was on one.

You sit down slow and yourself in the glass.
You inside and tear out all your cables.
Snakes of are dripping from your fingers.
You no body, just a cage to hold your parts.

I no answers; I'm rambling.
I was never one to solve has gone wrong.

You lie down on the and watch the sun rise.
Its burning fingers through your insides.
And for a moment you feel you're alive.
And it's gone, so you get up.

Up, up, baby. There's on the sidewalks of this town.
They've got us on the ropes. But we don't to take it lying down anymore.
Our hands aren't now.
Down, down, baby. Down in the in the center of town.
They've got 'em deep.
Under layers of are the bones of our past.

(Oh no, no)

leave on the evening train.
It be long, but it feels that way.
But home never meant very to us anyway.
So we convince ourselves we're better off gone.
And we're right.

And we on a road.
On an old dirt road, where the sun doesn't like such a waste.
And we fall asleep, under leaves of a couple of nearby tress.
And we wake again.