Luyện nghe bài hát Comin' Back For More

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'Way up in the
the scrub oaks grow
And the and the picas play
the marmots abound
All in the ground
And the wind cold all day

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

Now, it's hard to find
But altercate your mind
If you to go the right way
You Slumgullion Pass
And stop for no gas
you get yourself to Al's Caf

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

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

A-when the howl
And the cougar's on the
They ain't lookin' for customary prey
Nah, they're waitin' for
In a a' hot stones
At old Al Caf

Comin' back for
Comin' back for
Baby, comin' back for
Al's
Comin' back for
Comin' for more
Baby, comin' back for

(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 boots until May

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

[Courtesy of Chip Davis.]

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

the marmots abound
All a-diggin' in the
And the wind blows all day

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

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

It was the genuine,
Highly
Finger-lickin' caf
It was Al Packer's
Culinary
Cannibal Bar and

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

And when the coyotes
And the on the prowl
They ain't lookin' for your customary prey Aahoohoohoohoo [Yeah, Chip.]
Nah, they're waitin' for
In a a' hot stones
At old Al Packer's Cafe Bleah! [Could it be...