Luyện nghe bài hát Little Death

Now it out
Like a finger in the back of your
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's
Sam Sam
Band pushed the finger of Sam's hairiest hand
If that sickens you, you a
If it doesn't then you wicked
is life
Odd as Egg at night
No answers, so let us watch dancers
reformed gracefully being born
On the pallet of dark greys, concaves and
into a Eiffel
It ripples then it
Vacillates then it
Babylons then it Bibles and
And tell me of the spinning
And mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the cummerbunds of

How was your day, can I what you say
What I wanna hear, cause I you here
The hell that we to the heavens do anything for
La petite mort, la petite

They keep the just to make glass houses
Then climb up to the second floors and throw out it
expect not a volley in reply
Some place like prolly in the eye
What of the chicken? is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some conditions so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather
Well a place that has a stunning [?]
And more mercifully murdered
But are still the prices
It's niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto
If and when left to his own devices, well
How is your
Is it returning like a tree
To bear bitter fruit of you meant to me
Or was it slippin' permission am I trippin' like Phil
I feel I'm grippin' but the transmission
Still left out the life, left out the will, grief
Will cheese touch your teeth
Maybe like beef
Is it real, is it real, is it
Ha, hah!

How at the date can I you my break
Cause I you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The that we raised to the heavens make [?] for
Our petite mort, our petite

So glad back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the glamor in
in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon goons consumed and driven mad soon
The attended years slowly with baboons
That other business
Where killers go free cause a a funky witness
Runny mascaras the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil
by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day playing hum
recognition went unnoticed
And then till it was stoic
We should've been
Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of pentameter

How are your chains, do they you behave
you over here, by your overseer
Fallen from down from heaven to memories [?]
La petite mort, la mort