Luyện nghe bài hát The Weak Link

Written By: Francis

Verse

The link is quivering...determining the chain's strength/
Wimpering...VIBRATING...the length/
of its stress signals are more or symbols. It just trembles/
Knowing it'll take the weight when the chain and disassembles/
See Mr. Wendell? He knew of this daily struggle/
Sit under the disfunctional family tree and prepare for
Could barely hear the mumbles beneath the ear rumbles/
Sharp tongues slashing mouths while lashing out verbal belt buckles/
Friends crumble under similar within their own chain of events/
>From Sloppy knots in family ties. The is intense/
The tension is thick. Two sided are upsetting to him/
the link. testing its endurance and spreading it thin/
TREMBLING...holding onto what's familia in the Italian and reading intense drafts/
by Sylvia
Breaking off into an path/
Divert the by faking coughs, trying to act silly and laugh/
Making light of situations when I a panic attack/
I'm a fully licensed self-defense machanic, and my is black.

She probably I'm dead.
probably dead.
When he she said I was so strong, I know she's wrong...
I back support. My knees fold.
Please hold your end of the bargain I leave home.
hold the keystone.

Verse

The weak link is emense stress from a tense situation,
stretching out in every and visibly shaken.
Its as durable, listen...
its just the circumstance that has it standing in a position.
from the friction of abrasive personal differences.
People lose their when hands slip, and it gets worse when fingers give.
The Lying is in the middle of the three-ring-circus. "Bring the kids!"
Hanging by the last it swings.

Cling to live. to see. Gasp to breathe.
The figure is...breaking free...he has to leave.
I its...making me...want to pass the seeds.
The baby sitter grins...vacantly...lying in grass and leaves,
Laughing at trees. They hold own.
Forbidden fruit of their labor pains don't fall far from their home.
autumn calls for another poem devoted to growing old.
Every winter seems to get colder and colder...its that old story overtold.

Let go of your hold...become a missing link in the effect.
Out on the open road...kids'll think you a wreck.
When hopeless souls begin to and disconnect
its a release.
Its a relief.
Sometimes, we to be alone.
But please hold your end of the bargain I leave home.
hold...the keystone.