Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but ecstatic he ran
down the to the diva's house
bearing the prototype in his hot hand.
Now, the diva did not to try the darn thing on.
But, many initial 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 onset of the Siroccan Winds
which often roll through the Schwarzwald
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But did Otto know,
at the of his greatest triumph,
lurking the diva's bed
was none other than the worst
of the French thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was the scene
a great deal of interest!

Later that night, our Brun Hilda slept,
into the wardrobe softly crept.
He fumbled through knickers and 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!
woman in the world will 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!"