Luyện nghe bài hát Comin' Back For More

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'Way up in the
Where the scrub grow
And the coneys and the picas
Where the abound
All in the ground
And the blows cold all day

There's a little pile a'
On a little pile a'
That's a-what the say
But the in Lake City
Well, sing a different ditty
It like to make your hair turn gray

Now, kind'a hard to find
But it'll your mind
If you happen to go the way
You Slumgullion Pass
And don't for no gas
you get yourself to Al's Caf

It was the genuine,
Highly
digital caf
It was Al Packer's
Fast-food
Cannibal Bar and

Some dark
You gonna see a light
Up on Plateau, they say
a scrub oak fire
Like a funeral
Old Packer's a-cookin' all day

A-when the coyotes
And the on the prowl
They ain't lookin' for customary prey
Nah, they're for bones
In a pile a' hot
At old Al Caf

Comin' back for
Comin' back for
Baby, comin' back for
Cafe
Comin' back for
back for more
Baby, back for more

(Old Al
Was a bone-cracker
Got lost in a one day )

the boys went to get 'im
Old Al et 'em
And he all the bones in the clay

Now you know them
Wasn't toasted
And they didn't asleep in the hay
But it had been a hard
So he had 'em all for
And they didn't find their boots May

Well, the folks in City
Showed very little
So they sentenced him to next day
But before could noose 'im
Old Al got an'
He's a-lookin' for you,

Boohoohaha [Courtesy of Davis.]

Comin' for more
Comin' for more
Baby, comin' for more
Al's
Comin' for more
Comin' back for
Baby, back for more
(Now up in the snow
Where the oaks grow
And the and the picas play )

Where the abound
All a-diggin' in the
And the wind cold all day

There's a little pile a'
On a little pile a'
a-what the archaeologists say
But the folks in City
Well, they sing a different
It would like to make your hair gray

Now, it's kind'a to find
But altercate your mind
If you to go the right way
You take Slumgullion
And don't for no gas
Until you get yourself to Caf

It was the genuine,
Highly
digital caf
It was Al Legendary
Culinary
Bar and Buffet

Some dark
You're gonna see a weird
Up on Cannibal Plateau, say Boohoohaha [Chip again.]
a scrub oak fire
Like a funeral
Old been a-cookin' all day

And the coyotes howl
And the on the prowl
ain't lookin' for your customary prey Aahoohoohoohoo [Yeah, it's Chip.]
Nah, they're for bones
In a pile a' hot
At old Al Packer's Bleah! [Could it be... Davis?]