Luyện nghe bài hát We Dance On The Ruins Of The Stupid Stage

I got a semi body on my chest. My back hurts.
My throat is stressed.
I swear by the end of the night, be coughing up the morning drive.
The are cutting through my skin.
The opens up again, I'm worn out.
For sake, I'm worn out.
My sweat the eyes to shit, like my eyebrows got up and quit.
Now I sit with my head down low with my sticking to the floor.
I know we feel the same. Beaten up by the things we savor.
We're worn out. We try to hit the notes.
It now always go the way that we want it to.
We just go, 'cause we might not be here again.
We go, we gotta go as far as can go.
We're missing notes, but looking.
We're up, but we're cooking.
It ain't easy double working. That's what we're doing.
For right now, the is caution.
It's a struggle, it's a blur, but moving.
I've been swinging my last nerve over the thinnest ice you'd never seen on earth.
If it wasn't for supporting hands, I'd be through the cracks again.
But one thing sure changed.
Once satire takes the stage, be worn out.