Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tittsling

"this next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the of the modern foundation
Ent that we 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 happe
A schnauzer. it's a very sad story. I feel I have to share it you."

titsling, inventor and crout,
Had nothing to get very 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 t-ts were so big 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 eye-balled the diva lying amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly felt the fire or
Flood his soul. he what he had to do!
He ran back to his
he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For otto titsling had found his
To lift and mold the female
To point the small to the sky;
To the big ones high and dry!

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

Well, he stiched and he
And he and he stitched
Until finally one night, in the wee of morning,
Otto from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! he had invented the worlds
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!

but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the house
Bearing the prototype in his hot hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, many initial misgivings,
She did.
And the of relief that issued forth
From the mouth
Was so loud it was mistaken by some
To be the onset of the seraken winds
Which would roll through the schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But did otto know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
under the diva's bed
Was none other the very worst
Of the patentees,
debrassiere.
And phil was the scene
With a deal of interest!

Later that night, while our hilda slept,
Into the wardrobe softly crept.
He fumbled through knickers and galore,
'til he found titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! bliss!
I'm make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world wanna buy one.
I can have all the manufactures in taiwan."

"oh, you!"

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