Luyện nghe bài hát This World

I suppose you have to the view on the architecture,
And the architect bares the of the build,
There's no use trying to stare any sense what you see,
Dystopian dogma is all your will yield,
Time plays by the time clock all your just pointless labour,
You commute all hope of justice to some next savior,
You sacrifice for the greater of the lesser man,
It's really just a scheme to make you it's the plan.

We in everything but the truth,
The figure has got it figured out,
These nascent just the billboards prop,
Of product we have no doubt.

A to good to be true just good enough to be believed,
The landscaped conspiracy of lawns,
And to make you feel a job is so dear work for next to nothing,
Turn you not to servile slaves but happy pawns,
They keep your memory stocked with the of bibles,
So you can always how to bleed,
And the shelves stocked with divine desires,
It becomes so easy to what to need.

Opinions that sound more like sound sound,
A that feels like it has run aground,
So geared to this engine tell the lost from the found,
Our maps are flatter than the world is round,
dumb shows to t.v. the troops,
God junkie'd no dumber than dupes,
and killers and first born lobby groups,
Lawyers that broken laws jump thru hoops.

We in everything but the truth,
The authority has got it figured out,
How to the bandwidth of freedom in check,
Conclusions that with their own dogma of doubt.

This world is not a province of the states of Amythica,
We still don't see the big even on an eighty inch screen,
But so much easier to fit in when you fit in,
enough to figure just what to do without the figure of what it may mean,
Must a man of the people be an of the state,
Willing to fight the and ready to eat the kill,
What is the price we pay to pay this price and who the change,
We will not inherit the unless we contest the will.