Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Titsling

"This next story is a true story. it concerns two of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the modern
that we women wear today was a German scientist and opera lover by the name of Otto Titsling! This is a true story. his name was Otto Titsling. what happened to Otto Titsling shouldn't happen to
a Schnauzer. a very sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."
Titsling, inventor and Kraut,
Had to get very worked up about.
His inventions were failures, his seemed bleak.
He fled to the at least twice a week.
One night at the opera he saw an
Who's were so big they would often impede her.
he watched her fall into the pit,
Done in by the weight of those t-ts.
Oh, my god! she blows!
this bitch was a mess.
Otto eye-balled the diva lying comatose the reeds,
And he felt the fire or inspiration
his soul. he knew what he had to do!
He ran back to his
Where he and futzed and futzed.
For Titsling had found his quest:
To lift and mold the breast;
To the small ones to the sky;
To keep the big ones and dry!
night he'd sweat and snort
Searching for the support.
He tried some and paper clips.
Hey! He tried his own two lips!
Well, he and he slaved
And he and he stitched
Until finally one night, in the wee of morning,
Otto from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! He had invented the first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!
but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the diva's
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 relief that forth
the diva's mouth
Was so that it was mistaken by some
To be the early of the Sciroccan winds
Which would often blow the Schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!
But little did know,
At the moment of his triumph,
under the diva's bed
Was none other the very worst
Of the patent thieves,
de Brassiere.
And Phil was the scene
a great deal of interest!
Later that night, our Brunhilde slept,
the wardrobe Philip softly crept.
He fumbled through and corsets galore,
'til he found Otto's 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 have all the goods in Taiwan."
"Oh, you!"
The result of swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a or do you buy a Brassiere?