Luyện nghe bài hát Hurry Up Garry (the Parsons Farted)

The bastards, are they playing at?
Don't the music, don't like the words
Don't the sentiments
keep it for the birds and bees, boys, bastards
Yes that's right, I stepped out of
What do you What do you want?
As as I play it moderate, that's fine
Fuck off runt, fuck off
Pick your nose your ball pen, put your snot in Sounds
Back to your play pen with your cred minds
You whimper and whine from the pages of the
Ridicule and criticise those who want to this mess
There's people our there who are to live
who care, now, what do you give?
So many living off our sweat
So many in for what they can get
Punk ain't your standards and your rules
It ain't another for the suckers and the fools
sit behind your typewriters shovelling shit
Rotting in the of your crap lined pit
for the action, so you can grab a part
But it stinks so bad you come from]
Who's going to smell fart?
"CAN YOU PUT ME ON THE
IS THERE ANY FREEBIE
I WRITE UNLESS I FEEL WELL PISSED"
off, you fucking stink.