Luyện nghe bài hát Science Fiction

Little green men coming out of cans,
Phosphate mines and Lime, 1966, he was sixteen,
it's Central in the era of the dragline,
play it the pit and dig up more of that green shit,
and it with the Russians, who are traditionally hated,
you can imagine that after a few
you'd run out of things to say,
and I'll be here day.
Phospho~Gypsum, Radon-222,
the watch over you,
on a transformer four high it walks like a cripple
and on its base,
diggin' up that Phosphate.
Travel the
and you won't have far to go to find an civilization,
a from a creation that's from outer space.
Sixty foot for miles around;
one million tons of Phospho~Gypsum rise to the sky.
Nearly half the world's fertilizer lay beneath the overburden;
it got taken off sandbar,
and now there's something left behind.
Hey, this is a mess!
'what are you about?
clean it up later.
No, that's not the way it is at all, I'm not a miner I care,
man, pant of the system, I'm punk,
but who's gonna indict the Wall Street Journal, me and Bob Ray,
it's just part of the system here on the surface of the
and the day has come when there's work left
There's sunshine in a bottle of Tropicana,
with his friends and his 'Spooky 8-track flipped upside down,
in his Mercury Monterey down to Lithia Springs,
saying if we could take the tailings,
and build a for the New York Stork Exchange,
then we could tell everyone
how we in a state that digs Radon by the ton
and be loved by everyone,
and the will give us a Superfund,
and 'we're Radon, and Science Fiction.