Luyện nghe bài hát Pacemaker

Juveniles, hide porno mags
The girl's got problems at her
So she's up her bags full of rags
Her man got from Po Na Na
the madre still in the kitchen
Smokes a 20-deck

bags come back on planes from war torn Iraq
It's the stark naked truth, a dark
T, the juice and the dog just barks
Remember man the bully always had the laugh

It was a blast night down the old 12 Bar
White socks, black shoes the ballads in the car
With a lump in a throat she won't
on a cigarette it's all blah blah

Bloody obli obla dah down liquor
goes on for all the day trippers
Starts off but it's gonna get bigger
By the end of this letter it may all be

Well, she's asking with the who, where and how
The say, 'Ooh, la, la'
Well, if I had another chance I'd do it now
And the say, 'Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'

From Trafalgar Square where the crack reeking
To in dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking
You fell in love when you first chatting
But got so bored 'cause she never stopped

Consider this son on the bad
keeping all the freebies, delivering the papers
You us, shake down fakers
Oh, never get nowhere, 'cause I'm the pacemaker

Pretty please me, oh, she's on the eye
Some say that today the good young die
Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's been good day
I wanna ask questions but I don't to pry

How did you get to you're going
To before you slowly moseying through this bar?
You started your race, Johny wants his money back
up the man he's a fruit and nut bar

Oh, I see the GP, coughing up lungs
And the doc says, 'Stop or you're die young'
I haven't even started to do what I
You don't listen, you just carry on

Well, we heard this when your song got sung
Get a grip son, why? 'Cause always drunken
We're not captains skivvy sunken
Humdrum drum, drum, live die young

Mr. stumbling, the road rocky
And on the private property
Remember then it was the ranter banter
Young watched their young Pa's get cancer

Vagabond Sandy out for he missed her
her so much that he went drank the brewery
So sing-a-long Sam this is a song you
We all out and we got pissed-ola

I don't wanna fight, a right big cunt
But the say, 'Go on my son, my son'
Well, all a bit of fun 'til someone gets done
But the say, 'Go on my son, my son'

Well, I'm likely to pick up and run
But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my
Ah fuck it, well, he's a big cunt
But I'll knock him one, that, run, run