Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

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

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

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

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

For Otto Titsling had his quest:
to and mold the female breast;
to point the ones to the sky;
to keep the big ones and dry!

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

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

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

But little did know,
at the of his greatest triumph,
under the diva's bed
was none other than the very
of the patent thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was the scene
a great deal of interest!

Later that night, while our Hilda slept,
into the wardrobe softly crept.
He fumbled through and corsets galore,
'til he found titsling and he ran out the door.

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

"Oh, you!"

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

"Ohhh! you!"