Luyện nghe bài hát Pacemaker

Juveniles, hide your porno
The girl's got problems at her
So she's up her bags full of rags
Her man got down Po Na Na
While the still in the kitchen
Smokes a fags

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

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

Bloody obli obla dah glug down
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 always with the who, where and how
The say, 'Ooh, la, la'
Well, if I had chance I'd do it differently now
And the say, 'Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'

From Trafalgar Square where the crack pipe
To in your dark damp flat, the leaking
You fell in love you first started chatting
But got so bored 'cause she stopped speaking

Consider this son on the bad
He's all the freebies, delivering the papers
You hate us, down fakers
Oh, you'll never get nowhere, I'm the pacemaker

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

How did you get to where you're
To before you came slowly through this bar?
You started your race, Johny Cockerel wants his back
Give up the man he's a and nut bar

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

Well, we heard this before your song got sung
Get a grip son, 'Cause you're always drunken
We're not captains skivvy sunken
Humdrum drum, drum, live fast die

Mr. Skin stumbling, the rocky
And on the private property
Remember back then it was the banter
Young sons their young Pa's get cancer

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

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

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