Luyện nghe bài hát Tithe

spending the years of a childhood horizontal on the floor
like a bobsled minus the teamwork and the televised

and sounds appealing

retired on a percentage of the tithe that paved these roads
they to nowhere but they're still gridlocked, made of Solomon's pure gold
beneath the door frame waiting for earthquakes after the comes and goes
the saints went marching, the trumpets salving, the ones are phoning a goal

and nothing appealing