Luyện nghe bài hát Fryerstarter

Let me put you up on Bob's
Controller of the warm deep that charms cobras
it was aggravated ulcers over goat's legs
Will they go for maple, custard, buttermilk or wolfs
Hm, late after cinderella pulsate and crash I was rotating casts
Picture if you will a witching on week night in the trenches
Where paranoia in a bright florescent heaven
With
I know yum
Whether tummy ache or
Keep the funnel cake I'm glaze in vitro
In the of similar believers
Sleepless, who hear the breath and foam at the facial features
Now the yeast, a in the partially hydrogenated
parts flower, faith, healing
Might replace your nominated jesus
But if you privy to the following secret of all secrets

Shh, every night at 12 they would march out the back
With a tray of raw dough for the of hot fat
Show up around 1 get your god back
If you're just in, walk into the light

I oil too, not for scarfing
For CCs of innovation that screech into free parking
Purple heart and 2nd chin that him to squeeze the carbs into the motherboard
You can chew the eucharist in cruller
Locally a seedy danish is bustling where jelly's not a celebrated it's a puppet string
Pluck, nose for
5 cow stomachs like a mime a rope going nowhere
Fast, right of god on my shoulder, crows feet swollen, dopey
Combing fritters over with folk of opposing cultures
Baby cop thief reverend, body glitter, botched c-section, bronze teeth
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 at 12 they would march out from the back
With a tray of raw dough for the of hot fat
up around 1 never get your god back
If you're just tuning in, into the light

The fat are back, foam fingers over open arms
To feverishly reclaim their from golden jars
And stagger the pulse ofthe gulch on a builder's dividends
Hiding high behind his guilty powdered-sugar
eventide fever, sidewalk feeling a little dicey
I'm snake-eye straight to the icing
Might, fortune-teller up your paper tiger stripe
Great, grace invaders, the first-name basis haters
Who the pilot lights and flavors
night, holy night, invite the pious out the pagan
Midnight kitchen doors un-caging the enablers like butchers in bloody
Can I get a fucking
AMEN, raiders of the lost,
navigate consecutive like stations of the cross
No name no
Know the folk where it virgin mary toast by the
bob

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