Luyện nghe bài hát The Fine Art Of Making It Out Alive

Kiss me on the angel
I go to sleep
I remember if its Thursday or December
I've been keeping track of days by hangovers
And the on my floor
My mangled memory is making me misfortune for forgivness
I don't I'll make it out alive
So promise me you'll survive to bury me

Just all the alcohol
And chronicle the
But forget the cigarettes
Remember every

Alright, I that past few months were broken and abused
Now I'm used to the bleeding and unspoken that kept me so confused
Maybe we can get past these
But the bodies piling up are a whole story
Unless stomach's strong enough(2x)

Maybe we can get past addictions
But the piling up

So promise me you'll survive to bury me

Hell, maybe we can just
That this recovery wont on moderation
And in the end the same won'e leave me dead(2x)
empty all the alcohol...or baby we're dead

Tomorrow we'll wake up in to stop this double suicide
Through kisses with cyanide
ANd one look through bloodshot eyes

I this is what they call killing yourself in small dose(2x)