Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

"This next is a true story.
It two of my favorite subjects:
theft . . . and-a t-ts!
Mmm, a combo! This is the story . . .
The inventor of the foundation garment
that we women 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."

Titsling, inventor and kraut,
had to get very worked up about.
His inventions were failures, his future 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 would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he her fall into the pit,
done in by the of those terrible t-ts.

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

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

Every night he'd sweat and
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
until one night, in the wee hours of morning,
arose from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! He had the worlds first
over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Hooray!

but ecstatic he ran
down the street to the house
bearing the in his hot little hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after many misgivings,
she did.
And the sigh of that issued forth
from the diva's
was so loud that it was by some
to be the early onset of the Winds
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 other the very worst
of the French thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was watching the
with a great of interest!

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

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

"Oh, you!"

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

"Ohhh! you!"