Luyện nghe bài hát Motorpsycho Nitemare

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

I fell
To my knees,
Saying, "I dig farmers,
shoot me, please!"
He his rifle
And to shout,
"You're travelin' salesman
That I have about."
I said, "No! No! No!
I'm a doctor and true,
I'm a kid
And I to college, too."

Then in comes his
Whose was Rita.
She looked 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
Know about farms, tell?"
I said, "I was
At the of a wishing well."

Well, by the dirt 'neath my
I guess he I wouldn't lie.
"I you're tired,"
He said, sly.
I said, "Yes, ten miles
I drove."
He said, "I got a bed for you
the stove.
Just one
And you go to sleep now,
That you touch my daughter
And in the morning, the cow."

I was like a rat
I heard something jerkin'.
There Rita
Lookin' just Tony Perkins.
She said, "Would you like to take a
show you up to the door."
I said, "Oh, no! no!
I've been this before."
I I had to split
But I didn't how,
she said,
"Would you like to take shower, now?"

Well, I couldn't
the old man chased me out,
'Cause I'd promised
That I'd his cows.
I had to say
To him very weird,
So I out,
"I like Fidel and his beard."
Rita offended
But she got out of the way,
As he came charging down the
Sayin', "What's I heard you say?"

I said, "I Fidel Castro,
I you heard me right,"
And as he swung
At me all his might.
Rita mumbled
'Bout her on the hill,
As his hit the icebox,
He said he's going to me
If I don't get out the
In two flat,
"You unpatriotic,
doctor Commie rat."

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

Well, I figure I'll be back
for a spell,
Even Rita moved away
And got a job in a motel.
He still for me,
Constant, on the sly.
He wants to me in
To the F.B.I.
Me, I and stomp,
as I romp,
Without of speech,
I be in the swamp.