Luyện nghe bài hát The King of the Rollerama

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

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

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

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

One day, the comb in the back pocket of his
designer jeans defied all natural laws of surface
physics and fell out the rink. I clasped the relic to
my breast with hands and all afternoon practiced
the words that would fall my lips to his strong, manly ears.
Finally, as he was a quarter 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 and I remember thinking with a
clarity far beyond my years, no event of my
life would equal that moment of perfect ecstasy.
And to be honest, nothing really has.

Oh, somewhere in this town
Some paunchy guy clutches a whistle tight
Puts on his old blue satin jacket and relives the
Cause when rink guard in a one-mall town
Well, nowhere you can go but down but
You a star!
of the Rollerama.

The rumor that this is an accurate, first-person
of my adolescence is a fallacy. I never wore Natae.
I was always the Sweet type. ~D.F.