Luyện nghe bài hát Lonesome Bulldog

Get alone, bulldog
It's to spring
Get alone, bulldog
that time again
Though raining
Stop
There's a
Road to
Get alone, bulldog
Get alone, there,
Get alone, lonesome
In spring.

Well, Mahatma Ghandi was a little spindly bottom ying ragged headed boy, who grew up in a Western Kentucky village called Johnstonvile, in Harrison County, there he grew up. His mother was a white woman, his father was a rastifarian, he refused to buy the seafood on their outings. There he developed a taste for convertibles, blonde haired women, and big old long Indian dig, so get alone, get alone little Mahatma Ghandi in the spring.

Get alone, bulldog
While snow on the ground
Get alone, bulldog
Where you'll never be
In the
Without
And
No to share
Get alone, bulldog
Get alone, there,
Get alone, lonesome
In spring.

Well pretty soon little Mahatma Ghandi was going 300 miles per hour, and I'll tell you what, he was going 300 miles per hour was because his strangely turbo charged penis head was making him do it that why, just kidding. Mahatma Ghandi had a tremendous career at high school, college, and in law school, and in the house of representatives. There he found himself as a presidential candidate, and met up with Mary Joe Pipette, and the (?) bridge they did ride. So get alone, get alone little Mahatma Ghandi in the spring.