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 tanks for me
and he drives no 603.
So beat is Stef-f, Real Raz the chorus
Bass needs Pon-X, Mars needs Boris
Sound is OMNITRON, the of steel
- No 98-Olds, no
But the Trans-Siberian funk railroad,
the sure-win strategy: eat toad.
The funny-peculiar station,
the district and the Iron Ration:

An I for an I at the current of exchange;
another reduction, another in range.
Burning - what a smell!
Silly goat - where's my
Got no soul - what to
The better hand with the few as it seems
the clock punched the jaw of my jingle-bell dreams
Dog eat hot dog takes the loss but no bids
and the sweets lost taste in the mouths of the well-behaved kids.

Laughter and
drink and
The around.
More than less
we drink to
The pulls us down.

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

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

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

Honk if you love to up the honky tonk teenies.
Industrial history offers some pretty sceneries.
Buffalo soldiers, your tapes and abide
for the scorched earth has us all up for a ride.

The second COMECON in romper suit and felt-pen
stone-faced bought up by hustlers.
Unlike the little pigs and who die in the telly
our ends be smelly.