Luyện nghe bài hát The Weakends

Quicksand is a of arms
Lose sleep with some fiction
Last rites every Friday
While we with the lights on

High tide around the neck
The same song bleeding
What makes me so
The insides work the

You ever the dark impressions of your future?
The slightest gravestone whisper the stillness of heart
I feel it growing dark, a fever inching
A inching to the core

I'll kick tomorrow, fight at the pouring rain
I'll send the weekends down the drain, the drain
I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring
I'll send the weekends down the drain, the drain

Shorelines all around the
lights and some heavy breathing
Lipstick and the kiss
Just a figment of a

Hands pressed up against the
out for the big connection
Laxed lungs never so good
It's a show all the way

As years go crashing by I of all I've pondered
So many minutes squandered, so things undone
I'll try to figure out how many lives wasted
for the perfect time to start

I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring
I'll send the weekends down the drain, the drain
I'll tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain
I'll the weekends down the drain, down the drain

I'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the
I'll tomorrow, I'll send the weekends
I'll tomorrow, I'll send the weekends
I'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the

I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring
I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the
I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring
I'll the weekends down the drain, down the drain