Luyện nghe bài hát Fryerstarter

Let me put you up on Bob's
Controller of the deep fryer that charms cobras
Mostly it was aggravated ulcers over goat's
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 hour on night in the trenches
Where paranoia dead-ends in a bright florescent
sprinkles
I right yum
tummy ache or fever
Keep the cake I'm honey glaze in vitro
In the company of similar
Sleepless, who hear the walls breath and foam at the facial
Now the yeast, a phoenix in the hydrogenated
Equal parts flower, faith,
Might your previously nominated jesus
But only if you privy to the secret of all secrets

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

I boil oil too, not for
For CCs of japanese 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
a seedy danish underworld is bustling where jelly's not a celebrated it's a puppet string
Pluck, nose for
5 cow stomachs like a mime with a rope nowhere
Fast, hand of god on my shoulder, crows feet swollen, dopey
Combing apple fritters over folk of opposing cultures
sitter cop thief reverend, body glitter, botched c-section, bronze teeth
Each progressively sequestered
Yet if threatened will defend the bread as codefendants
Some lose or view it as superstition
You can tell a ifyou are down to kill them

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

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

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