Luyện nghe bài hát Crack City

(Live at Coney Island High, NYC; Bowie)

Oh come all you
Don't that scabby hand
It belongs to Mr. and Tell
It to the candyman

Don't your little bodies
To the of paradise
Like Everest fatal
Its are cold as ice

riding on the subways
They're riding on the
ride you down to the gutters
They'll ride you off your

Gonna hit City
Hit City

Piss on the monsters
Whose guitars bequeath you
face you down to their level
With addictions and their fast lanes

Corrupt shaky visions
And crack and and alcohol
just a bunch of assholes
With for their brains
You can't keep on
The you know too well
They'll you down to the gutter
ride you down to hell

Gonna hit City
Hit Crack

And you the master
May death be on brow
May razors slash mainline
I'm you out right now

May all vilest nightmares
Consume your head
May the ho-ho-hoounds of
Dance upon stinking bed

Don't at me you fuckhead
This nation's turning
Its it fouls the highways
Its filth it sticks like

Gonna hit Crack
Hit Crack

They'll you in velvet
And place you underground
With the hatred of
And the sufferings that

To take your body And throw it to the fools
Only your mind can you out of this
Only mind can prove

I'm on the subway
The subway down to
I'll see you on my
See you bid me

hit Crack City
Hit Crack