Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

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

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

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

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

For Otto had found his quest:
to lift and mold the female
to point the small ones to the
to the big ones high and dry!

Every night he'd and snort
for the right support.
He tried string and paper clips.
Hey! He even 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 to the diva's house
bearing the 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 it was mistaken by some
to be the early onset of the Siroccan
which would often roll through the
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

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

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

Crying, "Oh, my god! joy! What bliss!
I'm gonna 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 or do you buy a brassiere?

"Ohhh! you!"