Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

"This next is a true story.
It concerns two of my subjects:
theft . . . and-a t-ts!
Mmm, what a combo! This is the . . .
The of the modern foundation garment
we women wear today was a German scientist
and lover by the name of Otto Titsling!
This is a story.
His was Otto Titsling.
What happened to Titsling shouldn't happen to a schnauzer.
It's a very sad story. I feel I have to it with you."

Otto Titsling, and kraut,
had nothing to get worked up about.
His inventions failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the at least twice a week.

One at the opera he saw an Aida
who's t-ts were so big they would often her.
Bug-eyed he watched her into the pit,
done in by the weight of terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically bitch was a mess.
eyeballed the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
and he suddenly felt the of inspiration
flood his soul. He knew he had to do!
He ran back to his
where he and futzed and futzed.

For Otto Titsling had found his
to lift and the female breast;
to point the small ones to the
to keep the big ones and dry!

Every night he'd sweat and
searching for the support.
He tried string and paper clips.
Hey! He tried his own two lips!

Well, he and he slaved
and he and he stitched
until finally one night, in the wee of morning,
Otto arose from his triumphant.
Yes! He had invented the first
over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Hooray!

Exhausted but he ran
down the to the diva's house
the prototype in his hot little hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after initial misgivings,
she did.
And the sigh of relief that forth
the diva's mouth
was so loud that it was by some
to be the onset of the Siroccan Winds
would often roll through the Schwarzwald
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did know,
at the moment of his triumph,
lurking under the bed
was none other the very worst
of the patent thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was watching the
with a deal of interest!

Later night, while our Brun Hilda slept,
into the Philippe softly crept.
He through knickers and corsets galore,
he found Otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "Oh, my god! What joy! bliss!
I'm make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world wanna buy one.
I can all the goods manufactured in Taiwan."

"Oh, you!"

The result of this is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a

"Ohhh! you!"