Luyện nghe bài hát The Wilde Flowers

Sun hangs high, I turn
underground
Heart is sick and is high
for a sound

Like a trail of to me
I them from afar
Feeding, breeding,
Tell me I am

from discovery
Staring down into the
Had they the posion in me
A of spite wound be found

Moving lingering gaze
on my sanity
A grain of sand against waves
A for the slaughter of conformity

light as the flames grow higher
Searing on a funeral pyre
Blinding light as the flames grow
Searing on a funeral pyre

Inside me sleeps a violence waiting to be

Blinding light as the grow higher
Searing skin on a funeral
light as the flames grow higher
Searing skin on a pyre

Blinding light and the flames grow
Searing on a funeral pyre
Should I speak and they'll me a liar
I'll retreat to my pyre

My sanctuary, a centuries
I'm not waiting, I'm tired of
I'm not waiting, I'm of waiting
I'm not waiting, I'm of waiting
I'm not