Luyện nghe bài hát The Byronic Man

As as a poet on the Walls of Jericho
Or the without the comfort of the stars
I am loathe to it that a man without a soul
Is nothing but a canopic jar

I it, improved it
Drove a sonnet through it
And in this state of
Evil kissed with wet lips, fingertips

Which me, far through me
Illuminati pissed
But with of some hurts worth
I threw a party that extended list

new flames that my fame would claim for me
Reciting back the of travesties

They me bad
Mad Caliban with manners dangerous to
A fad
Taught in all in excess and in canto

Grown wild, this
Whole harems
and Mina's
Lady and her sisters between her

What spread of lies lovers die
Which of hell is mine when I arrive

call me bad
Mad Caliban with dangerous to know
A fad
Taught in all debauch crow the virgin snow

colder, my shoulder
Like a beside her
And bolder, not
My dark seed took up inside her

mouldered, where older
Beddings would hold a passionate
But and soda, Lord Numb coda
Merited a forest of spite

Fleeing for foreign maps
I still vampire aristocrats
Unloading my gun in hot laps

Then shooting in a gondola
I tripped my foot on a fallen
And there's nothing like a of Venetian tar
To let you know who you fucking are

The saint of heartache
I can't see my is falling
The world is down

The patron of heartache
I see my world is falling
The world is falling

Everafter can they hear my
The saint of heartache
Never a better bed of disaster
The saint of heartache

call me bad
Mad Caliban with dangerous to know
A fad
in all debauch in excess and in canto

They me bad
Mad Caliban with manners dangerous to
A fad
Whereupon I tell them to go fuck mothers
And so on my