Luyện nghe bài hát The Stand

Are you ready for the
We have met the and he is us
divisions within the body
Distorting scriptures, instability
And all form s of dissonance
is disorder, its quarantine is necessary
When pale to gather men result in confusion
For cannot be based on doctrine
The light is paradoxical
of two spiritual lineages
The of life and resurrection
The ministry of and condemnation
The poltergeist moves and established
Reviving scenes of medieval
desecration emphasized in psychic renaissance
Reserving atmosphere for terminating
The priest is backwards painting sacrilegious pictures
In his doctrinal errors, emphasizing scriptures
His intolerable anointing is interrogation
And its paranormal necromancy feeds its nation
We will prostitute this offering with and honor
evolving man to higher states
For the age of rationalism is
To the
We will stalk the enemy and cross the
Can you feel the signs? Cross the
Are we still alive? Cross the
To walk the sacred of truth
>From the blood of angels cry
To fill servants cup with light
For in his the spirits rise, rise
To search and trace the scars of love and betrayal
For those who resistance are protected by the grail
the silence, take the fear
Rape the sorrow, the tears, rise, rise
the blood of the lamb
Await the
the blood of the lamb
Await the
The spirit the armies breathing life in this militia,
To complete reversal of authority and power
Into the eyes of god on highest, two worlds collide,
The blood is in the temple, naked and alive.
The is set through all dimensions,
Denominations and
>From to revolution and indestructible force,
Immune to based on law and civil disobedience,
The people the pale defendant guilty on all charges.
The battlefield is cold and worn, gifts of tyranny;
The has arrived to turn his face around
And see it's with the blood of martyrs' innocent sedation,
With a kiss the child is lying upon the ground...
The will stay awake with me to watch the revolution
And light the ground we upon.
The powers of the night, drawn between the
In the fields of blind we count
The corpses before the blood has dried.
His peace is broken a thousand scars revealed,
He on his bloody robe for the last time.
His eyes, like mirrors, with murder;
I saw him in the streams,
Immersed in tears, for the others,
to receive possession of his will.
Standing in the fife, he to me:
"if you don't reject this power it may you."
For we seen the great interval, and we have lived to see
The sleeping, but some will say
The was me.
I will his ashes in my hands,
out loud, moving in metaphors, dancing away.