Luyện nghe bài hát The Prayer Of A Realist

There's no one up there never was.
in vain is there a god.
There's too suffering for him to be ..
an power, a heavenly being.

My god, your god, god, there is no god ?

The fabric of ages old.
Drones on and mould.
Gets a weekly airing from a on high.
Who talks and talks his throat's dry.

A fund for a with a hole.
It's the money they'll save not soul.
begging from men of the cloth.
Refuse his and see his wrath.

The weak ones kneel to him pray.
"Oh saviour back someday".
Sinning waiting for a sign.
I him he's yours not mine.