Luyện nghe bài hát Teepee on a Highway Blues

a portion of devotion on sale
to the stale-skinned, rummage-happy troop.
got my bells on: it keeps my ringing and peers watching.
wishing i'd stop quietly with my mouth open and hands on the switch,
so when they the earth, who's ass will your head end up in?
it's most likely you'll never get the tip or learn to take hints.
i want a new 'cause my books are getting old,
and i'd watch the "news and advertisements" and a new way to change my life

(guaranteed of course, the names we trust have,
and will be, the only answer).
girls like to hands; i had my life squeezed out once or twice,
so let's call it even...and well-balanced, like a crock of
or a hell of a life on a mess to the upscale,
where sniff dreams off fingernails
and rate life on a scale of gain.
mapping out the universe: a wife and with no name,
and a big house a hill that blocks out the sun for those who can't afford it.
throw some to the starving idealists.
do they not the same? are they not men?

we got desks now,
and all my ideas are carefully on crumpled paper at my feet.
starving for attention when the demon barely out of this life.
now i'm on the shore, laughing at my dot com buddies who got laid off,
who needs references
i've been working for god in all the wrong circles.

i could have a programmer, but this much i still am:
not a man or a teacher, a student in denial
with more to give then could possibly take.
when there's nothing to disagree with,
drop off the face of the planet
and give mtv-land back to its owners...you can have it.

there's a replica of comfort and a false of stability.
the difference between a blow-up doll in a bathtub with slit wrists
and a lost only calling to borrow money.
all these are beneath you,
there are floors to slip and break neck on
and bottles of vodka you see through.
parasite to parasite, what's eating me is you.

the absolute hardest thing about being
is how you wish you fast-forward the way it drags.
now they got drugs and computers to do for you
until they can be you, and you,
and convince you that they you.
never meant to harm anything so
you can't help but hope it gets killed crossing in traffic.

i promised i wouldn't kill anything on this song,
but you leave me no
i can't complain, and can't believe i'm still
waiting for people, waiting for
who themselves by saying, "hello,"
i underestimated and how loneliness
will drive entire to pigpile on television sets.
all the distractions and fade-away inspirations
are the reason i can barely a one-sided conversation,
or sit still without shaking.
i pull the out of my head and wait for bats to fill the room,
but all i get is a receding and another shit-eating grin.

it's sad to anyone...