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

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