Luyện nghe bài hát The Path Of Least Persistence (Figure II)

There goes your and her plague
What a display
Of a tongue
That wouldn't lend a
this dead was a thoughtless act
With intact
she seeks the day to pass
With stitches that you clean
You hold your flag of your plea
Now nothing left to recall
A fruitless title
Amongst someone you could know
In this plight of this
thickness of your plague
She's a that's lost her way