Luyện nghe bài hát Motorpsycho Nightmare

I on a farmhouse
Lookin' for a to stay
I was mighty, tired
I had a long, long way
I said, "Hey, hey, in
Is there home?"
I was standin' on the
Feelin' alone
Well, out a farmer
He must have thought I was nuts
He looked at me
And a gun into my guts

I down
To my knees
Saying, "I dig
shoot me, please!"
He his rifle
And began to
"Are you travelin' salesman
I have heard about?"
I said, "No! No! No!
I'm a doctor and it's
I'm a kid
And I to college, too"

Then in comes his
Whose was Rita.
She like she stepped out of
La Vita
I immediately tried to it
her dad
And told him a
Nice, pretty he had
He said, "What do
about farms, pray tell?"
I said, "I was
At the bottom of a well"

Well, by the dirt 'neath my
I he knew I wouldn't lie
He said "I guess tired"
He it kinda sly
I said, "Yes, ten miles
I drove"
He said, "I got a bed for you
Underneath the
one condition
And you go to right now
That you don't touch my
And in the morning, the cow"

I was sleepin' a rat
When I heard jerkin'
There stood
Lookin' just like Tony
She said, "Would you like to a shower?
I'll you up to the door"
I said, "Oh, no! no!
been through this movie before"
I knew I had to
But I didn't how
she said,
"Would you like to that shower, now?"

Well, I leave
the old man chased me out
'Cause I'd promised
I'd milk his cows
I had to say
To strike him very
So I
"I like Fidel and his beard"
Rita looked
But she got out of the way
As he came charging the stairs
Sayin', "What's I heard you say?"

I said, "I Fidel Castro
I think you me right"
And I as he swung
At me with all his
mumbled something
'Bout her on the hill
As his had hit the icebox
He said going to kill
Me if I get out the door
In two flat
"You
Rotten Commie rat"

Well, he a Reader's Digest
At my and I did run
I did a
As I him get his gun
And through the window
At a hundred an hour
And fully blast
In his garden
said, "Come back!"
And he to load
The sun was up
And I was runnin' down the

Well, I don't figure I'll be
There for a
though Rita moved away
And got a job in a
He still for me
Constant, on the sly
He to turn me in
To the F.B.I.
Me, I and stomping
Thankful as I
Without of speech
I might be in the