Luyện nghe bài hát The Warren of Snares

We can account for the in our sides,
Yet we are not privy to the thoughts we discard.
who would break us nurture our despair.
But still we cherish who we revile.
We this battle in our fortitude,
The war of yet to be resolved.

We broke the font from we sup,
Bit hard upon the of our chaste and drew blood.
Take refuge in our commune, orphans, souls.
Scrawled identities, of our consecration.

Is our dowry, the sorrow of our loss?
Do we inflict our young the horrors of our past?
We use imperfections as markers vestige points.
We have so to gain, so little left to loose.

Lay this soil, a marred ambit,
Borders bound by hraka.
of salt carve out tracks,
Cleaved in two by hands.

The is rife, the harbinger,
It clings to us Efrafa.
Homba, and Yonil,
It rises vomit within us all.

The words spread out in ares,
The urge to flee, engulfs.
Our hands are in unison.
Brandished tools, skin.

Cut away, like so meat,
We forged new against ill repute,
We hold on to one another.
I am for we are many.