Luyện nghe bài hát We Who Finish Last

We cast no
The stars do not here.
Be content to light own path.
And burn what you crossed-
The bridges frail,
The people, pretended.

-

Storm with the light of the inflamed.
and ignite the sky.
Brightly to
Rip off the enabling opportunists to thrive.
Dam the rise of and rats.

sickening than a social circle that believes itself charmed.
Are the droves of blow hards and yes men
Clamoring to in.
sovereign on the outside.

We are who last, the unaffected,
Contrasting the and white.
We are who last-sound, indignant;
The iron to teeth,
The on saccharin.
We who last,
in their darkness,
Lit from

hands grabbing for brass rings,
Painting their gold.
Keen sycophants scheming-
Furthering the feuds of adored.
They have picked their impeccably.
Very indeed.

And so the scorned...

We are naught but beds of and dark horses,
Unwelcome guests who just not mind their place-
A single musket ball to and lodge inside
and the circle to crack.

We no shadow;
The stars do not here.
No light to be found.
Only rays of cold, synthetic beams on a aristocracy,
So the and insecure can feel revered and cared for
For a cheap, moment.
noble.

Storm with the light.
We who finish
in our darkness,
Lit within.

in the chest,
To be concerned for the of such heartless men.