Luyện nghe bài hát Fryerstarter

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

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

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

Shh, every night at 12 they would out from the back
With a tray of raw 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 open arms
To feverishly reclaim their stomachs from golden
And stagger through the ofthe gulch on a builder's dividends
high behind his guilty powdered-sugar fingerprints
Seething eventide fever, feeling a little dicey
I'm snake-eye straight to the icing
Might, fortune-teller up your favorite paper stripe
Great, grace invaders, the first-name basis patron
Who compromise the lights and flavors
Silent night, holy night, invite the out the pagan
Midnight kitchen doors un-caging the enablers like butchers in aprons
Can I get a fucking
AMEN, hazelnut of the lost,
navigate pastries like stations of the cross
No no dayjob
Know the where it virgin mary toast by the loaf
bob

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