Luyện nghe bài hát I Know Where The Summer Goes

I know the summer goes
When you're having no fun when you're under the
I how the summer dwells
When your underarm and your kitchen looks like hell

I know the summer goes
If you're scraping a pot and head is hot
Put your head down, put your thumbs up,
the smell of hot desk and the glitter of your step

He was right, he was
the guru of the city
No one told the councilors

I know, you can tell me
I've got my mobile phone, it's of silicon chips
No one likes a arse
But I've a pattern emerge, I will race you up the hill

the boy who made records
Out of postcard
And flowering rain on kids like you

Look at the kid with the crimped
And hair, they ran a book on his looks
on was the noble pose
And the denim hard riff of the Irish

But the boy came nowhere
To steal the
lassies in the lavies of the club tonight