Luyện nghe bài hát Private I

I want to wear a Stetson hat and a long coat
And I to find a case-solving clue on a bloodstained note
Mysterious will hire me
To solve their dead mystery
And I'll carry a gun but I'll only shoot the bad
I to be a private eye
I want to go where no ever gone before
And I want to wield my evil father's laser
One little for me
Gets bigger there's no gravity
And I'm gonna fly high in the sky than the speed of thought
I'm be an astronaut

People always ask me, "When you gonna up
And when you do what you be?"
That's I always tell them if I'm gonna grow up
I'll do it on my own time and what I become is still up to me

I to be the fastest draw in the wild, wild West
In boot and spurs and a hat I'll be well dressed
I'll catch the and throw them in jail
win a shootout at the OK Corral
Oh bury me not on the prairie don't fence me in, Roy
I to be a cowboy
I to say, "Land ho! Argghh! Avast!" and "Batten down the hatches!"
And I want to a peg leg, a hook for an arm, and two eyepatches
I'll run you through then you walk the plank or
tie you to a two-ton anchor
I'll be a pirate I'll no fear
I to be a buccaneer
(What's a buccaneer?)
(Too to pay for corn.)
(ha ha ha.)

In the and on the jungle gym
dolls and Tonka trucks were made for her and him
I don't know I know
But you just ask my mom, she I can be whatever I want to be
And you just ask your dad if you can over and play with me
I be a photo-journalist college kid
And I wanna get bitten by a radioactive
One lesson be learned by me
Is that with great power great responsibility
And have an uncanny spider-sense and web-shooters on my hands
I be Spider-Man!
(Cool!)
I want to arc through the air the grace of a falcon
Then I want to jump into the of Macaulay Caulkin
the other kids are dancing to U2
I'll be spinning and round in a tutu
I be as limber as fully cooked semolina
I want to be a male
(You be a WHAT?)
(I wanna be a ballerina!)
(No way!)
(No it's not, my says that I can be whatever I wanna be, like who
do YOU be? fricken uh...)
(Spider-Man, man)
(Spider-Man, oh, Spider-Man... like how a cowboy, gimme a break,
Wyatt didn't even exist! You're singing about the OK Corral, you
see the episode Spectre of the Gun from Star Trek, you think you
everything is to know about Wyatt Earp, gimme a fricken break!)
(Hey, I know I *need* to know about Wyatt Earp, OK!)
(Yeah, well, wasn't he just some old guy died in a fricken nursing
home?)
(Yeah, well, at I'm not a fricken... a fricken...)
(Just shut up and the chorus, OK?)
(OK...)