Luyện nghe bài hát Pink Tarantulas

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

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

What's cooking in your (come on taxman)
The sleepy clang of cash register
What's our sun? (come on taxman)
The addictive hum of bubble gum
on taxman!
This withered milk tree that you call love like an empty glove..
Feed it! (yeah ) Suck it! (yeah) Own it! (yeah) it! (yeah)
And we know that sewing on another asshole wont 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 together of other people under the poison hail.
You so disgusting, all pink and puckered, covered with tarantula hair.
You look so disgusting I can feel the rotting off of my prowling stare.

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

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

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

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