Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll build a box for Black
Ah'm enquirin on behalf of his
Ah'd be to ya all
For a lil information, yes kinda information
who'll dig the hole?
When ya done his room
grabbin anything shines,
throw the scrap down on the
all his books and his notes.
All the that he wrote
the fucken lot right up in smoke
Aint there sacred anymore
Someone will build a box for Black
And shootin off his guns
and there shootin off mouths
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go in their skulls)
'Cover eye! Cover that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a heap up against the
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma scold ya anymore
of ants, wade up the lil red streams
they're for the mother-pool
O lord, it's cruel, O man hot!
And some of them ants they yes to the spot
Who threw the first at Black Paul?
'Don't ack us', say the critics and the
The pen-pushers and the
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
Hey,hey,hey,hey...
Here is the hammer, build the scaffold,
and the box...
is the shovel, that dug the hole,
in this of rocks...
And here is the of stones!
and for one planted, God only knows,
a grown...
These are the Demon-Flowers!
These are the Demon-Flowers!
Stand everyone! Blud-black everyone!
Who'll build a box for Black
Who'll carry it up the
Not I', said the widow, his veil
'Ah will not the nail
Or cart his home,
For ah that one hundred times before,
Yeah! ah that one hundred times or more,
And why ah dress his wounds?
he has wounded my dress, nighty,
Right across the
build a box for Black Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
Who'll it in the black-soil?
And the words and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
'and this not hurt a bit,
go up,up,up,up,up into Death
up,up,up,up, inhale its
O yeah, Death favours that favor Death'
Here is the stone, and this is the at bare
'Below Lies Black Paul, The Upper...
But and Beyond The Surface-Flat-Fall There.'
And all the come on down,
And all you men and women around
And all the widows weeping their skirts
And all the lil gals and the lil
And the scribes with mein-pens
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
clears his throat of blut
singin Black Paul like a boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah have one thousand tears
cryed a thousand tears, its true
And the next night ya know,
That still cryin them for you
Well, ah had a gal she was so sweet,
Red dress, and long red hair hangin
And heaven yes heaven
Without lil gal hangin around
Well, ya know loin a bad-man
and knows ah dun some good things too
But ah confess, my soul will rest
you, until you build
Until ya a box for my gal, too.