Luyện nghe bài hát Fryerstarter

Let me put you up on Bob's
Controller of the warm fryer that charms cobras
Mostly it was aggravated over goat's legs
Will go for maple, custard, buttermilk or wolfs bane?
Hm, late after your cinderella pulsate and crash I was casts
Picture if you will a witching on week night in the trenches
Where paranoia dead-ends in a bright florescent
With
I know yum
tummy ache or fever
Keep the cake I'm honey glaze in vitro
In the of similar believers
Sleepless, who hear the walls breath and foam at the facial
Now the yeast, a in the partially hydrogenated
Equal parts flower, faith,
Might replace your previously jesus
But only if you privy to the following secret of all

Shh, every night at 12 would march out from the back
a tray of raw dough for the pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 never get god back
If you're just tuning in, into the light

I boil oil too, not for
For CCs of japanese innovation that screech into parking
heart and 2nd chin that beseech him to squeeze the carbs into the motherboard
You can chew the in cruller form
Locally a seedy danish underworld is bustling jelly's not a celebrated it's a puppet string
Pluck, nose for
5 cow like a mime with a rope going nowhere
Fast, right hand of god on my shoulder, crows feet swollen,
Combing apple fritters over with folk of opposing
Baby sitter cop thief reverend, body glitter, botched c-section, bronze
Each progressively sequestered
Yet if threatened will defend the rasin bread as
Some lose or view it as superstition
You can tell a friend ifyou are down to kill

Shh, every night at 12 they would out from the back
a tray of raw dough for the pool of hot fat
Show up 1 never get your god back
If you're tuning in, walk into the light

The fat boys are back, foam fingers over arms
To feverishly reclaim their stomachs from golden
And stagger through the pulse ofthe on a builder's dividends
Hiding high behind his guilty fingerprints
eventide fever, sidewalk feeling a little dicey
I'm snake-eye to the cakes icing
Might, fortune-teller up your favorite paper tiger
Great, grace invaders, the basis patron haters
Who the pilot lights and flavors
Silent night, holy night, the pious out the pagan
Midnight kitchen doors un-caging the like butchers in bloody aprons
Can I get a amen?
AMEN, hazelnut of the lost,
navigate pastries like stations of the cross
No no dayjob
the folk where it virgin mary toast by the loaf
bob

Shh, every night at 12 they would march out from the
With a tray of raw for the pool of hot fat
up around 1 never get your god back
If you're just in, walk into the light