Luyện nghe bài hát Pink Tarantulas

We are the cock-eyed children left to babble in glue.
We are the shock-eyed children left to suckle in the soap opera zoo.
We are the engines pumping out strangled by static from the noisy sun.
So won't you us what's brewing in your trenches?
Let us see you've got hidden under the web.
Come on, on, what's listening in those stretch marks?
Tell us, tell us, taxman, you meant when you said...

Sleep, eat, own, fuck,
like a bombed out conversation.
Phone, TV, sweets, suck,
I pledge allegiance to the small nation.
Wrapped, packed, soiled, stacked,
Gaping like a cracked open
Counted, measured, copied, faxed,
Pink tarantula in our pina coladas.

What's in your stain? (come on taxman)
The clang of cash register fangs
What's cooking our (come on taxman)
The addictive hum of bubble gum
on taxman!
This milk tree that you call love collapses like an empty glove..
Feed it! (yeah ) it! (yeah) Own it! (yeah) Fuck it! (yeah)
And we know that sewing on asshole wont make us shit more,
but who can resist a two-for-one at the pink tarantula

tarantula! (Yeah!)
tarantula! (Oh yeah!)
tarantula!
1, 2, 3, go!

When you up in the morning the rising sun shines through its frosted veil.
We'll always lay dreaming of other people under the poison hail.
You look so disgusting, all pink and puckered, covered with hair.
You look so disgusting I can the sight rotting off of my prowling stare.

And we know that TV fed us our footsteps,
but the is gonna teach us, teach us, teach us,
teach us, teach us, teach us just how to crawl.

We are the cross-eyed children misled to in tarantula webs.
Yeah we are the children chained to rot in the designer fuck beds.

Sleep, eat, own, fuck,
Abandoned a bombed out conversation.
Phone, TV, sweets, suck,
I pledge allegiance to the talk nation.
Wrapped, packed, soiled, stacked,
Gaping like a open piata
Counted, measured, copied, faxed,
Pink tarantula in our pina coladas

tarantula! (Yeah!)
tarantula! (Oh yeah!)
tarantula!
1, 2, 3, go!