Luyện nghe bài hát Rock Drill/Iron Ration

It took us some time as it's up yours
- we had the furnace, the and the ore.
But as stood, we needed a crew
I the Pope, I considered you.
But the Pope ain't got enough for me
and he drives no 603.
So beat is Stef-f, Raz joins the chorus
Bass needs Pon-X, Mars needs Boris
is OMNITRON, the walls of steel
- No 98-Olds, no
But the Trans-Siberian funk railroad,
the sure-win toad eat toad.
The jamming station,
the district and the Iron Ration:

An I for an I at the current rate of
reduction, another target in range.
Burning - what a smell!
goat - where's my hell?
Got no soul - what to
The better with the upper few as it seems
the alarm punched the jaw of my jingle-bell dreams
Dog eat hot dog takes the loss but made no
and the sweets lost their taste in the mouths of the kids.

and noise
drink and
The around.
often than less
we to excess
The past us down.

Honk if you the Saviour, sing him a song.
If the leopards sing to the bones, they just sing along?
Burning love - a smell!
Silly - where's my hell?
Got no soul - what to
Can we have faith in him than in publicity drives?
or should science fill our heads as it our lives?

The Second in a second or maybe too late, or
fiction seeking another creator.
There are so many that we may have to live in
- the can't be given.

and noise
drink and
The around.
Amnesia
to fill our
we drown.

Honk if you love to bonk up the honky teenies.
Industrial offers some pretty good sceneries.
Buffalo soldiers, splice tapes and abide
for the earth policy has us all up for a ride.

The second in romper suit and felt-pen moustache;
stone-faced ancestors up by hustlers.
Unlike the little pigs and crooks who die in the
our will be smelly.