Luyện nghe bài hát Motorpsycho Nightmare

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

I down
To my knees
Saying, "I dig
Don't me, please!"
He cocked his
And to shout
"Are you that salesman
That I have about?"
I said, "No! No! No!
I'm a and it's true
I'm a kid
And I to college, too"

Then in his daughter
Whose was Rita.
She looked she stepped out of
La Dolce
I tried to cool it
her dad
And him what a
Nice, pretty he had
He said, "What do
Know about farms, tell?"
I said, "I was
At the of a wishing well"

Well, by the dirt my nails
I he knew I wouldn't lie
He said "I you're tired"
He said it 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 touch my daughter
And in the morning, the cow"

I was like a rat
When I something jerkin'
There Rita
Lookin' just like Perkins
She said, "Would you to take a shower?
show you up to the door"
I said, "Oh, no! no!
I've through this movie before"
I I had to split
But I know how
she said,
"Would you like to take 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 weird
So I
"I like Fidel and his beard"
Rita offended
But she got out of the way
As he came down the stairs
Sayin', "What's that I you say?"

I said, "I like Fidel
I you heard me right"
And I ducked as he
At me all his might
mumbled something
'Bout her on the hill
As his fist had hit the
He said going to kill
Me if I get out the door
In two seconds
"You
Rotten doctor rat"

Well, he threw a Reader's
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 landed fully
In his flowers
said, "Come back!"
And he to load
The sun was up
And I was runnin' the road

Well, I don't figure be back
There for a
Even though Rita moved
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 romp and
as I romp
Without of speech
I might be in the