Luyện nghe bài hát The Beast

I got a job in a
Feeding a beast don't like me
It don't give a darn about how I
As long as I it its ration of steel

And pity the man who the grief
That comes the bite of that monster's teeth
Pity the man who the grief
That with the bite of that monster's teeth

Watch your mitts at the of the stroke
It's a killer, and will go for broke
It shoulda melted 'bout twenty years back
But it feeds the and he loves that snack

Oh, Beast, my hands
I'll use to slay you if I get the chance
Oh, Beast, my hands
use them to slay you if I get the chance

There ain't no guards to up a man
Keep your foot on the and your eye on the ram
If your hand should slip, why the don't shout
He just buys new fingers as he you out

plenty of hands to feed the jaws
The press stop when there ain't no cause
There's plenty of hands to feed the
The press don't stop there ain't no cause

There one man out on the press
Who quit if jobs weren't scarce
But a man has to have his daily
And that Beast's gotta have its rolled steel

inside remain the dreams
That us the masters of the machines
While deep remain the dreams
make us the masters of the machines

Well, now, I got a job in a
Feeding a that don't like me
It don't give a about how I feel
As long as I feed it its of steel
Long as I it its ration of steel