Luyện nghe bài hát Tiny Glowing Screens, Part 2

There's 7 billion 46 million people on the
And most of us have the to think we matter
Hey, you hear the one about the who croaked?
Someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little
But he keeled over he went into battle wearing chain mail made of jokes
Hey, you the one about the screenwriter who passed away?
He was giving pitches and the elevator got stuck halfway
He ended up eating sandwiches they pushed through a crack in the door
And repeating the crappy screenplay idea about talking dogs 'til his last day
Hey, you hear the one about the who passed?
He didn't off that ledge
He just out into the air and pulled the ground up towards him really fast
Like he was pitching a line and fishing for concrete
The is a drum and he's hitting it on beat
The reason there's smog in Los Angeles is 'cause if we see the stars
If we could see the context of the universe in we exist
And we see how small each one of us is
Against the vastness of what we know
No one would ever audition for a McDonalds again
And then where we be?
No frozen and no TV
And is a world we want to text in?
Either someone just microwaved
Or I hear the sound of a thousand people pulling their heads out of their in rapid succession
The people are hunched in Boston
They're starting app stores and screen printing in San Francisco
They're in Los Angeles like they've got fishhooks in the corners of their mouth
But don't me like the good guy 'cause every time I write
I get to choose the angle that you me and select the nicest light
You respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter tap tap
through my mind at night
The same stupid tape loop of old sitcom
And tattered memories of a I got to grind on in high school
Filed carefully on paper
My is a colored pencil
But my is an eraser
I want a real girl, I want to trace her from a catalogue
Truth be told I'm unlikely to you down
Cause my is a crowded subway train
And people keep deciding to get on the next one that rolls through
I'm joining a false movement in San
I'm frowning and hunched over in
I'm smiling in Los Angeles I've got fishhooks in the corners of my mouth
And I'm celebrating on
Because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the
And I have the audacity to think I
I know it's a lie but I prefer it to the
Because I've got a tied at my elbow / I've got
A wrap filled with compliments and I'm burnin it
You say to go to sleep but I bouncing off my bedroom walls since I was hecka small
We're every age at once and tucked ourselves like Russian nesting dolls
My mother is an 8 old girl
My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys failed
And that's the glue me and you
That's the screws and
We in a house made of each other
And if that sounds that's because it is
Someone please freeze time so I can run around everyone's pockets inside out
And remember, you see shit