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 of the modern foundation
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. it's a sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."
Otto Titsling, and Kraut,
Had to get very worked up about.
His inventions were failures, his future bleak.
He to the opera at least twice a week.
One night at the opera he saw an
t-ts were so big they would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he her fall into the pit,
Done in by the weight of terrible t-ts.
Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically bitch was a mess.
Otto eye-balled the diva lying amongst the reeds,
And he felt the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul. he what he had to do!
He ran to his workshop
Where he futzed and and futzed.
For Otto Titsling had found his
To and mold the female breast;
To the small ones to the sky;
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 tried his own two lips!
Well, he and he slaved
And he slaved and he
Until finally one night, in the wee of morning,
Otto arose from his triumphant.
Yes! He had invented the worlds
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!
Exhausted but he ran
Down the to the diva's house
Bearing the prototype in his hot hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after initial misgivings,
She did.
And the sigh of relief that issued
From the diva's
Was so that it was mistaken by some
To be the early onset of the winds
Which often blow through the Schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!
But little did know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the bed
Was none other the very worst
Of the French thieves,
de Brassiere.
And was watching the scene
a great deal of interest!
Later that night, our Brunhilde slept,
Into the wardrobe softly crept.
He fumbled through knickers and galore,
'til he 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 have all the manufactured in Taiwan."
"Oh, you!"
The result of this swindle is pointedly
Do you buy a or do you buy a Brassiere?