Luyện nghe bài hát Woundwort

At the crux of our the cornea dies.
out dissension a barrage of cries.
Written in and glanced rebellion,
we gather these wounds, weep words opposition.
Tilled bare bitter fruit,
like needles furrow and root.
Clasped hands dig nails skin and through wood,
out the terms of our parenthood.

Those who would summon to court assumptions,
to cut out the blemish of the prince.
The godhead resides within the of coercion,
the virtue of all our children.
The of piety,
the prince.
Pigheaded,
and as sin.

We no longer in his necrotic penumbra,
the prophetic wore out long ago.
the call is heard, the is given,
the throng descends his eminence.
Attempted offerings, he in his woe.
The walls of his womb to an fro.
We will knocking with baited breath,
the scent of the apostate rife repent.

With icons dismantled the cleansed.
We carve out new and runes in the sand.
Faces of kindred, of kind,
the worship of kinship starving minds.
we lay,
we build.
we may falter,
we build.

The onus of shifts in its cradle,
the locks on the brittle, unable.
We splinter the timber, over the general.
The jabbering magnate, and devoured.
Dismember! Scour mantle!
We far too long.
Smelt the chains! Leave unturned!
We far too long.