Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

"This next story is a story.
It two of my favorite subjects:
industrial theft . . . t-ts!
Mmm, a combo! This is the story . . .
The inventor of the foundation garment
that we 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 sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."

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

One night at the opera he saw an
who's t-ts were so big they often impede her.
Bug-eyed he watched her fall 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 futzed and and futzed.

For Titsling had found his quest:
to lift and mold the female
to point the ones to the sky;
to the big ones high and dry!

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

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

but ecstatic he ran
down the street to the house
the prototype in his hot little hand.
Now, the diva did not want to try the darn on.
But, after initial misgivings,
she did.
And the of relief that issued forth
from the mouth
was so loud it was mistaken by some
to be the early of the Siroccan Winds
which would often roll through the
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But did Otto know,
at the moment of his triumph,
lurking the diva's bed
was none than the very worst
of the patent thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was the scene
with a deal of interest!

Later night, while our Brun 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 make me a from this!
Every woman in the will wanna buy one.
I can have all the manufactured in Taiwan."

"Oh, you!"

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

"Ohhh! you!"