Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll a box for Black Paul?
enquirin on behalf of his soul
Ah'd be to ya all
For a lil information, yes some information
who'll dig the hole?
When ya done his room
grabbin anything shines,
throw the down on the street
all his books and his notes.
All the junk he wrote
the whole lot right up in smoke
there nuthin sacred anymore
Someone will a box for Black Paul?
And there off his guns
and there shootin off their
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go in their skulls)
that eye! Cover 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, up the lil red streams
headin for the mother-pool
O lord, cruel, O man it's hot!
And some of them ants they yes ilot to the
Who threw the first stone at Paul?
'Don't ack us', say the 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 one planted, God only knows,
a grown...
are the true Demon-Flowers!
These are the Demon-Flowers!
back everyone! Blud-black everyone!
Who'll build a box for Paul?
carry it up the hill?
Not I', said the widow, adjusting his
'Ah not drive the nail
Or his puppet-body home,
For ah done that one hundred before,
Yeah! ah that one hundred times or more,
And why should ah dress his
he has wounded my dress, nighty,
Right the floor'
build a box for Black Paul?
Who'll carry it up the
Who'll it in the black-soil?
And the words and the thickets
Come the of his victims
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
'and will not hurt a bit,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up Death
up,up,up,up, its breath
O yeah, Death favours that favor Death'
is the stone, and this is the inscription at bare
'Below Lies Paul, Under The Upper...
But Above and The Surface-Flat-Fall There.'
And all the come on down,
And all you men and women around
And all the widows into 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 of black blut
Black Paul like a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah have one thousand tears
Ah've cryed a thousand tears, its
And the next stormy ya know,
That ah'm still them for you
Well, ah had a gal she was so sweet,
Red dress, and long red hair hangin
And yes ain't heaven
Without lil gal hangin around
Well, ya ah've loin a bad-man
and Lord knows ah dun some good too
But ah confess, my soul will never
you, until you build
Until ya a box for my gal, too.