Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll a box for Black Paul?
Ah'm enquirin on behalf of his
be beholdin to ya all
For a lil information, yes kinda information
Just who'll dig the
ya done ransackin his room
grabbin that shines,
throw the scrap down on the
all his books and his notes.
All the junk he wrote
the fucken lot right up in smoke
Aint there nuthin sacred
Someone build a box for Black Paul?
And there off his guns
and shootin off their mouths
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go scuttle in skulls)
'Cover that eye! that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a up against the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, won't scold ya anymore
Armies of ants, wade up the lil red
headin for the mother-pool
O lord, it's cruel, O man hot!
And some of them ants yes ilot to the spot
Who threw the first stone at Paul?
ack us', say the critics and the hacks
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, that the scaffold,
and the box...
Here is the shovel, dug the hole,
in this of rocks...
And is the pile of stones!
and for each one planted, God knows,
a grown...
These are the Demon-Flowers!
are the true Demon-Flowers!
Stand everyone! Blud-black everyone!
Who'll build a box for Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
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 that one hundred times or more,
And why should ah dress his
he has wounded my dress, nighty,
Right across the
Who'll a box for Black Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
Who'll bury it in the
And the words and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
this will not hurt a bit,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up Death
up,up,up,up, inhale its
O yeah, Death favours that favor Death'
Here is the stone, and is the inscription at bare
Lies Black Paul, Under The Upper...
But Above and The Surface-Flat-Fall There.'
And all the come on down,
And all you men and crowd around
And all the widows weeping into skirts
And all the lil and the lil Boys
And the with mein-pens parsed
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
his throat of black blut
singin Black Paul a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah cryed one thousand tears
cryed a thousand tears, its true
And the next stormy 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 yes ain't heaven
that lil gal hangin around
Well, ya know ah've loin a
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.