Luyện nghe bài hát The King of the Rollerama

At my friends read Teenbeat and wrote to Peter Frampton
Hung staple-scarred Leif Garret posters by beds
It all seemed shallow, (my love was more mature)
It was the kind ripped an adolescent heart to shreds
All I'd dream about him in science and in math class
I couldn't eat I sleep 'til Saturday arrived
Then I'd don my macram vest, a of Jean Natae
And I would go down to the so I could watch him roll on by

He was a real live Mercury
backwards to Take a Chance on Me
And I'm surprised I didn't just die such a preteen drama
In his non-rent skates he was six tall!
Underneath that pulsing disco
His friends called him he was
of the Rollerama
(Well, he wasn't actually a king, he was a guard,
but to an adolescent on the of womanhood,
Is no difference.)

He had a pretty (they'd neck in his Baretta)
Sometimes she a poncho, she was so way cool
She hung out at the Bar 'til they called couples only
And every time took the rink, I'd blubber like a fool
I'll not forget that session during crack the whip
Woah! I lost my balance and I fell off to the
Oh, here comes my darling hero, too fast for him to
He skated over all my fingers and it didn't his stride!!!
I didn't that cast for a month!

He was too much for like me to take
Leaving Old Spice breezes in his
And I'm surprised I didn't just die from a preteen drama
It was I learned what true love means
As he breezed by me in jeans
His real was Mike, he was
of the Rollerama

One day, the comb wedged in the back of his
tight jeans defied all natural laws of surface
and fell out onto the rink. I clasped the relic to
my breast with trembling hands and all practiced
the words would fall from my lips to his strong, manly ears.
Finally, as he was slipping a into a game of Asteroids,
I made my move, up to him and I go,
"Um, you this.
And like, "Thanks."
And as he grabbed for the HIS FINGERS
BRUSHED MINE and I remember thinking a
clarity far beyond my years, that no of my
life would ever that moment of perfect ecstasy.
And to be honest, nothing ever has.

Oh, somewhere in this tonight
Some paunchy guy clutches a silver whistle
Puts on his old satin jacket and relives the drama
Cause when you're guard in a one-mall town
Well, there's nowhere you can go but but
You a star!
of the Rollerama.

The rumor that this is an accurate, account
of my adolescence is a fallacy. I wore Jean Natae.
I was always the Honesty type. ~D.F.