Luyện nghe bài hát Worship At Our Temple

Mark has rattled that little bone in my head blowing strong shes right on sweet NZ runnning around getting our together.
Single wing that with out a single feather.
Meeting a the paddock like perfect no in me but I feel like an addict.

Patches of rock are sticking out like mange no scabe dog shes the beautiflly Paeroa range.
Deer and boar they have a home on her true her top scapes then it cuts into the blue.
Also like a giant pushed dirt over a grave not sure if I'm fool hardy or brave.

Dust is from the car like a vapour trail soon so quiet slip throught the air under a sail.
At take off there is always a saftey check who wants to break and then spiral the deck.

Standing there I feel the glory of a thermal. We have to worship at our temple.