Luyện nghe bài hát Warming Up The Brain Farm

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

God,
The best intentions have sadly faltered.
Despite his installed, varnished brain, and being
force-fed gallons of demented liquor, he is
to obtain the new drone spiders' trophy.
He dreams of becoming the who never sweats.
Quite frankly i'm sickened to this individual infiltrate
my headspace.
He of lascivious laughs haunting his every second
as the clock spits, clicks, and time by in the
form of a snake.
Massive
probably.
I for my safety.
He is as as his fellow man.
I am now by hypocrites, liars, drunks,
clowns, fools, and the desperate.
I we barter with the moon to sell the patients
cohesive lyrical in exchange for a vision of the
future.
Stricken with grief, I have no but to turn to lethal

Hardcore Paste.
takin' over...

Early draft of lyrics taken from Radio 1 DJ set
God,
The patient's intentions have sadly faltered.
It has of late become apparent, he's by lust and
he's as weak as his colleagues.
A hypocrite, by liars and bed-wetters.
Stricken with grief, he turns to lethal toxins,
Paste.
Goodbye
takin over...