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, a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the modern foundation
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a 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 were failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at twice a week.

One night at the opera he saw an
Who's t-ts 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 this 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 to his workshop
he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For otto titsling had found his
To lift and the female breast;
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 some string and paper clips.
Hey! he even his own two lips!

Well, he stiched and he
And he and he stitched
finally one night, in the wee hours 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 street to the house
Bearing the in his hot little hand.
Now, the diva did not to try the darn thing on.
But, many initial misgivings,
She did.
And the of relief that issued forth
From the diva's
Was so loud it was mistaken by some
To be the onset of the seraken winds
Which would often roll through the
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the bed
Was none other than the worst
Of the patentees,
debrassiere.
And was watching the scene
With a great of interest!

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

Crying, "oh, my god! joy! what bliss!
I'm make 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 this swindle is clear:
Do you buy a or do you buy a brassiere?