Luyện nghe bài hát Winteryear

(dedicated to Abhinanda)

A winteryear, five years the future
Just the end of history
There's a headless
Couloring the
Its is cut off
The sewer its altarwine

The penetrates
The modern
In the
Of

In halls
Empty echoes between the walls
As champagne swills down dried
Dance to the of living dead
They knock at your splintered

dignity
A rapes itself
falls the belief
In

Men weep and die
Men breed and sleep
The library goes up in
Nothing left but remains
Lines drawn with perfection
The is on the phone - an infection
The gun lights a cigarette
To celebrate the

I rather for something
Than die for
If the runs nearby
Don't me in