Luyện nghe bài hát Science Fiction

Little green men out of paint cans,
Phosphate and Slaked Lime, 1966, he was sixteen,
it's Central in the era of the dragline,
play it over the pit and dig up more of green shit,
and it with the Russians, who are traditionally hated,
you can imagine that after a few
that run out of things to say,
and I'll be every day.
Phospho~Gypsum, Radon-222,
the daughters watch you,
on a transformer four stories high it walks a cripple
and on its base,
diggin' up Dicalcium Phosphate.
the blacktop
and you have far to go to find an alien civilization,
a creature from a creation from outer space.
Sixty foot high for around;
one million tons of tailings rise to the sky.
Nearly half the world's fertilizer lay beneath the overburden;
it got off this sandbar,
and now something that's left behind.
Hey, this is a mess!
'what are you takin'
clean it up later.
No, that's not the way it is at all, I'm not a miner I care,
man, that's 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 on the surface of the planet
and the day has come when there's only work
There's sunshine in a bottle of Tropicana,
with his and his 'Spooky Tooth' 8-track flipped upside down,
drivin' in his Mercury down to Lithia Springs,
saying if we could take the tailings,
and build a building for the New Stork Exchange,
then we could everyone about
how we live in a state digs Radon by the ton
and you'll be by everyone,
and the will give us a Superfund,
and Radon, and that's Science Fiction.