Luyện nghe bài hát Woundwort

At the of our nation the cornea dies.
Spills out a barrage of cries.
Written in looks and rebellion,
we gather these ugly wounds, words opposition.
Tilled fields bare fruit,
like needles furrow and root.
Clasped dig nails through skin and through wood,
gouge out the of our parenthood.

who would summon to court these assumptions,
to cut out the of the idiot 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 cower in his necrotic penumbra,
the repugnance wore out long ago.
the is heard, the word is given,
the descends upon his eminence.
offerings, he weeps in his woe.
The of his womb rock to an fro.
We will come knocking with breath,
the scent of the apostate with repent.

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

The onus of power in its cradle,
the locks on the brittle, unable.
We the timber, stand over the general.
The magnate, dethroned and devoured.
Dismember! Scour mantle!
We far too long.
the chains! Leave nothing unturned!
We far too long.