Luyện nghe bài hát Usually Just A T-shirt: Untitled #12

Blind head in catastrophe icicles
No-one's fed in led by cycles dead
Ask to the flag
is distance and blue sits like apples bite
And flows our hands
I 'Hi' to a man who shot his sister
through the station
And in front of a train
Said I'm a bit confused to you
Life's what do to a day
So smiles pave the way
Sand drips with
And clouds my 'cause I'm a fortune fellah's bed
And I'm the tunes by the goons
Who ride in fairy's
And stole the road the way
And sold to yesterday and
I know the of pushing you out of a building
Tiny people hit the sky
Still the got up and wiped your face
You to fly, wind up your misfortune
Sling 'em to a
Who wears butterflies on his face
And is to grow wings
He really wants to you
'hey give tears to today'
yourself souvenirs under your stolen years
Hands in pockets
Your hands getting numb hurt in grinds jive
Do the that seem to meet defeat you
Did you ever try to hug the sky behind your
I walked forever sightseeing a
Shuffled a mean green
Dives head into a hole in the water
Drives side to side like a machine
Dove dancing to a told to a sea of disintegration
Crawl to a celebration of dirt that leaves taste of wine
from a hair that digs into the darkness
Full of the fair that my rides.
I slide kind through a ladder
Hanging on a
close so far
Away from the
A like section of introspection
To would be to recline.
Hit the underlying gently
Ride on the
your problems to zero
He's got to hide.