Luyện nghe bài hát Penguin in Bondage

hank you. (Brian, I could use a little bit more monitor). Hello hello (can't you turn it up any more than that?) Hello hello . . . Hey! Alright! Pardon me, folks. The name of this song is "Penguin in Bondage," an' it's a song that, uh, deals with the possible variations on a basic theme which is . . . well, you understand what the basic theme is. And then the variations include, uh, manoeuvres that might be executed with the aid of, uh, extra-terrestrial gratification and devices which might or might not be supplied in a local department store or perhaps a drugstore but at very least in one of those fancy new shops that they advertise in the back-pages of the free press. This song suggests to the suggestible listener that the ordinary procedure, uh, that I'm circumlocuting at this present time in order to get this text on television, is that, uh, if you wanna do other than what you thought you were gonna do when you first took your clothes off and you just happened to have some DEVICES around . . . then it's, it's not only okay to get into the PARAPHERNALIA of it all but . . . hey! What did he say? Ready?

She's just like a in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh . . .

Way over on the wet
Of the bed (Knirps for moisture)

like the mighty Penguin
Flappin' her eight wings
(The Flap)

Lord, you it's all over
If she come atcha on the strut & wrap 'em all yer head
Flappin' her eight ounce wings,

She's just a Penguin in Bondage, boy

Shake up the
ale

Tremblin' like a
When the fail

Lord, you must be havin' her jumpin' through a hoopa real
With some Kleenex wrapped around a wire

She's like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh . . .

Howlin' to some
Antarcticulated

In the frostbite
With her gone white
Shriekin' as she spot the hoop across the
(Everytime she the hoop)

You it must be a Penguin bound down
If you hear that terrible screamin' and there ain't no
Birds

just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh . . .
She's just a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh . . .

Aw, you must be
Not to leave her
TOO

'Cause she might box yer dog
She just might box yer
An' you a dried-up dog biscuit . . .