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 wind blows all day

There's a pile a' stones
On a little a' bones
That's the archaeologists say
But the folks in City
Well, they sing a ditty
It like to make your hair turn gray

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

It was the genuine,
Highly
Finger-lickin' caf
It was Al Legendary
Coronary
Bar and Buffet

Some night
You gonna see a light
Up on Cannibal Plateau, say
a scrub oak fire
Like a funeral
Old Packer's been 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' for more
Comin' back for
Baby, comin' for more
Cafe
Comin' for more
back for more
Baby, comin' for more

(Old Al
Was a real
Got lost in a one day )

When the went to get 'im
Old Al et 'em
And he buried all the bones in the

Now you them fellas
toasted marshmellas
And they didn't asleep in the hay
But it had a hard winter
So he had 'em all for
And they didn't their boots until May

Well, the in Lake City
very little pity
So sentenced him to hang next day
But before they could 'im
Old Al got an'
a-lookin' for you, today

Boohoohaha of Chip Davis.]

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

Where the marmots
All a-diggin' in the
And the blows cold all day

There's a pile a' stones
On a little a' bones
That's the archaeologists say
But the folks in City
Well, they sing a different
It would like to your hair turn gray

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

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

Some night
gonna see a weird light
Up on Cannibal Plateau, they say Boohoohaha again.]
It's a oak fire
a funeral pyre
Old Packer's a-cookin' all day

And when the howl
And the cougar's on the
They ain't lookin' for your customary Aahoohoohoohoo [Yeah, it's Chip.]
Nah, waitin' for bones
In a pile a' hot
At old Al Packer's Cafe Bleah! it be... Davis?]