Luyện nghe bài hát The Architect

The sheep are all like disciples
Waiting to be led a shallow grave
in tragedy
Their mouths the pollution

Inhaling the concept of a new
Masses fan her campaign flames
is not around the corner
It's already
In me

She paints the cicatrice to conceal her wretched design
Flesh
Imparting to all
She the cicatrice beige

Words fail as her elusive speech
Reaches yet pair of dead ears
Sentences bear no relevance but the mortal
a sight too exquisite to watch
As she

The

the concept of a new tyrant
Masses fan her campaign flames
is not around the corner
It's already

She the cicatrice beige