Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll build a box for Black
enquirin on behalf of his soul
Ah'd be to ya all
For a lil information, yes some kinda
Just dig the hole?
When ya done ransackin his
anything that shines,
throw the scrap on the street
all his books and his notes.
All the that he wrote
the whole fucken lot right up in
there nuthin sacred anymore
Someone build a box for Black Paul?
And there off his guns
and there shootin off mouths
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go scuttle in skulls)
'Cover eye! Cover that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a up against the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma scold ya anymore
Armies of ants, up the lil red streams
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?
'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, that the scaffold,
and the box...
Here is the shovel, dug the hole,
in ground of rocks...
And here is the of stones!
and for each one planted, God knows,
a grown...
These are the Demon-Flowers!
These are the Demon-Flowers!
back everyone! Blud-black everyone!
Who'll build a box for Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
Not I', said the widow, his veil
'Ah not drive the nail
Or cart his home,
For ah done that one hundred before,
Yeah! ah done one hundred times or more,
And why should ah his wounds?
When he has my dress, nighty,
Right across the
Who'll a box for Black Paul?
carry 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,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up into
up,up,up,up, inhale its
O yeah, Death those that favor Death'
Here is the stone, and this is the inscription at
Lies Black Paul, Under The Upper...
But and Beyond 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 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 of black blut
singin Black Paul like a boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah have cryed one thousand
Ah've cryed a thousand tears, its
And the next stormy ya know,
That ah'm still cryin for you
Well, ah had a gal she was so sweet,
Red dress, and long red hangin down
And yes ain't heaven
that lil gal hangin around
Well, ya know loin a bad-man
and Lord knows ah dun good things too
But ah confess, my soul will never
you, until you build
Until ya a box for my gal, too.