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 some information
who'll dig the hole?
When ya done ransackin his
grabbin anything shines,
throw the scrap down on the
Like all his and his notes.
All the junk he wrote
the whole lot right up in smoke
Aint there sacred anymore
Someone build a box for Black Paul?
And there shootin off his
and there shootin off mouths
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go in their skulls)
'Cover that eye! Cover that eye!'
Black-puppet, in a heap up the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma won't scold ya
Armies of ants, wade up the lil red
they're headin for the
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?
ack us', say the critics and the hacks
The and the quacks
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
Hey,hey,hey,hey...
is the hammer, that 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...
are the true 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, adjusting his
'Ah will not drive the
Or cart his home,
For ah done one hundred times before,
Yeah! ah done that one times or more,
And why should ah dress his
When he has my dress, nighty,
Right the floor'
Who'll a box for Black Paul?
Who'll carry it up the
Who'll bury it in the
And from the words and the
the ghosts of his victims
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
'and this will not a bit,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up Death
up,up,up,up, its breath
O yeah, Death those that favor Death'
Here is the stone, and is the inscription at bare
'Below Lies Black Paul, The Upper...
But Above and Beyond The There.'
And all the angels 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 mein-pens parsed
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
clears his throat of black
singin Paul like a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah cryed one thousand tears
cryed a thousand tears, its true
And the stormy night ya know,
That ah'm 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 that lil gal hangin
Well, ya know ah've a bad-man
and Lord knows ah dun some things too
But ah confess, my soul will rest
you, until you build
Until ya a box for my gal, too.