Luyện nghe bài hát C'n'c-s Mithering

Three
months
Three
Three
A
A
To these
First was 'n' carry house dance
In Lancashire A
In Nat Ltd. empire
Save is there
The scene started
was America
Then was
We there
Big A&M Herb was
His had fresh air
But his rota was
US purge, 'n' pop filth
material's filched
And the secret of lives
Is...
All the English
Act like peasants free milk
On a
On a to the loot
To candy
Five wacky English proletariat
always think of sex
Or think of
hundred girl deaths
A revenge, it's stolen land
They get it off on
"Don't me please"
Rapist the TVs
And the secret of lives
Is S.E.X..
I dreams, I can see
of negro Nazis
Like Faust with
shaved weirds
[Applause from audience at Cyprus ]
This was to be called crap rap fourteen,
but it's now Mithering.
The things that you off and drive you off the hinge.
Boils, socks, the ceilings collapse.
The Sunday morning loud mower,
the upstairs Jewish girl hoovering, with valium cig
withdrawal.
She communal, fluent flat household.
I privacy.
The bastard dentist surgery,
Clip, clop, ring, knock,
Stop
The estates up like stacks
The stick up like stacks
The residents keep dogs
And on that father's closet top,
electric boxes
Surplus jonnies, pictures
To their children sing
mithering
You think you've got it bad thin ties,
songs synthesized, or circles with A in the middle.
Make joke records, hang out with Bushell,
Join round table. "I like your yer great!"
A of low IQ's.
There are rules of audience.
My acquaintances, go soft, go places,
on company expenses.
I lose humor, manners become barbed, righteous, know it.
The smart hedonists, same as verse, allusions with
H in electronics, on stage histrionics,
Corpse mauling dicks, to a good film, him, him
mithering
I'm not conventional rock band.
The conventional is experimental, the is now
experimental,
And is no way noble, and I'm no chock thing.
So mithering.
save up for cars.
I try to let down tyres with matches to make them molten.
Ouch! Ouch!
They say I rip off Johnny
They always strike for pay.
say "See yer mate..Yeh...see yer mate"
To mothers they sing
mithering
Even the drowned tissue test.
He out for sex.
He magazine contest.
tan horror in the mirror.
Spotty exterior a spotty interior.
He's not enemy.
He's not enemy, his name is not Harry.
The secret of and Carry.