Luyện nghe bài hát Tiny Glowing Screens, Part 2

There's 7 billion 46 million people on the
And most of us have the audacity to we matter
Hey, you hear the one about the who croaked?
Someone him in the heart, just a little poke
But he keeled over 'cause he went into battle 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 smushed sandwiches pushed through a crack in the door
And the same crappy screenplay idea about talking dogs 'til his last day
Hey, you hear the one the fisherman who passed?
He didn't off that ledge
He just stepped out into the air and pulled the ground up towards him fast
Like he was pitching a and went fishing for concrete
The earth is a drum and he's hitting it on
The reason there's smog in Los Angeles is if we could see the stars
If we could see the of the universe in which we exist
And we could see how small one of us is
Against the vastness of what we know
No one would ever audition for a commercial again
And where would we be?
No dinners and no TV
And is a world we want to text in?
Either someone microwaved popcorn
Or I hear the sound of a thousand people pulling their heads out of their asses in rapid
The people are over in Boston
They're starting app and screen printing companies in San Francisco
They're grinning in Los Angeles like got fishhooks in the corners of their mouth
But don't paint me the good guy 'cause every time I write
I get to choose the angle that you view me and select the nicest
You respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter tap tap
Tapping my mind at night
The same stupid tape loop of old dialogue
And tattered memories of a girl I got to grind on in high
Filed carefully on rice
My heart is a pencil
But my is an eraser
I don't a real girl, I want to trace her from a catalogue
Truth be told I'm unlikely to you down
Cause my soul is a subway train
And people deciding to get on the next one that rolls through town
I'm joining a movement in San Francisco
I'm frowning and hunched in Boston
I'm in Los Angeles like I've got fishhooks in the corners of my mouth
And I'm on weekends
Because are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet
And I have the audacity to think I
I know a lie but I prefer it to the alternative
I've got a tourniquet tied at my elbow / I've got
A blunt wrap filled with compliments and I'm it
You say to go to sleep but I been bouncing off my bedroom walls since I was hecka
We're every age at once and inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls
My is an 8 year old girl
My is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed
And that's the glue me and you
the screws and nails
We live in a house made of each
And if that sounds strange that's it is
Someone please time so I can run around turning everyone's pockets inside out
And remember, you didn't see