Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tittsling

"this next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor 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 it with you."

Otto titsling, and crout,
Had nothing to get worked up about.
His inventions failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at least a week.

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

Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically bitch was a mess.
Otto eye-balled the diva comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul. he what he had to do!
He ran to his workshop
he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For titsling had found his quest:
To lift and mold the female
To point the small ones to the
To keep the big high and dry!

Every night he'd sweat and
Searching for the 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 one night, in the wee hours of morning,
arose from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! he had invented the worlds
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!

Exhausted but he ran
the street to the diva's house
Bearing the in his hot little hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, many initial misgivings,
She did.
And the sigh of that issued forth
From the diva's
Was so that it was mistaken by some
To be the onset of the seraken winds
Which would often roll the schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But did otto know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the bed
Was other than the very worst
Of the patentees,
debrassiere.
And phil was the scene
With a great of interest!

Later that night, while our broom slept,
the wardrobe phillip softly crept.
He fumbled through and corsets galore,
he found otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! bliss!
I'm gonna make me a million 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 pointedly
Do you buy a or do you buy a brassiere?