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 some information
who'll dig the hole?
When ya done his room
grabbin anything shines,
throw the scrap on the street
Like all his and his notes.
All the junk that he
the whole fucken lot right up in
there nuthin sacred anymore
Someone will build a box for Black
And there shootin off his
and there shootin off their
'Fuck with us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go in their skulls)
'Cover that eye! that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a heap up the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma scold ya anymore
Armies of ants, wade up the lil red
they're headin for the
O lord, cruel, O man it's hot!
And some of ants they yes ilot to the spot
Who the first stone at Black 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...
is the hammer, that build the scaffold,
and the box...
is the shovel, that dug the hole,
in ground 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 back everyone! everyone!
build a box for Black Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
Not I', the widow, adjusting his veil
'Ah not drive the nail
Or cart his home,
For ah done one hundred times before,
Yeah! ah done one hundred times or more,
And why should ah his wounds?
he has wounded my dress, nighty,
Right the floor'
Who'll build a box for Paul?
carry it up the hill?
Who'll bury it in the
And from the and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
'and this will not a bit,
go up,up,up,up,up into Death
up,up,up,up, its breath
O yeah, Death favours those favor Death'
is the stone, and this is the inscription at bare
'Below Lies Black Paul, 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 their
And all the lil gals and the lil
And the scribes with parsed
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
clears his of black blut
singin Black like a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah cryed one thousand tears
Ah've cryed a thousand tears, its
And the stormy night ya know,
That ah'm still them 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 ah've loin a bad-man
and Lord ah dun some good things too
But ah confess, my soul will never
you, until you build
Until ya a box for my gal, too.