Luyện nghe bài hát The Party

The fire-breathing rebels arrive at the party
Their khaki are hung in the closet near the fur
Asking from the ladies, while they criticize the Lords
Boasting of the murder of the very hands that
And the victims learn to giggle, for at least they are not

And my had to shrug
As I crawled the rug and retuned my piano

The hostess is enormous, she the room with perfume
She meets the and smothers them with greetings.
And she asks, "How are you" and she offers a drink
The countess of the social grace, who seems to blink
And she promises to talk to you if you not to think

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

The of the hour is blazing in the present
She surrounds herself those who would surrender
Floating in her flattery, a trophy-prize, caressed
by a pretty face, sometimes cursed, sometimes blessed
And she's down their desires
While staring down her dress

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled the rug and retuned my piano

The egos shine like light bulbs, so you cannot see them
each other blinder than a sandbox
All the fury of an argument, holding back their
A challenge shakes the chandeliers, the selfish are drawn
To the loser go the hangups, to the victor go the on

And my had to shrug
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano

They travel to the table, the is served for supper
And they pass each other for salt and pepper
And the conversation as their wits are dipped in wine
Dinosaurs on a diet, on each they will dine
Then they pick their teeth and they a belch saying
"Darling, you divine"

And my had to shrug
As I crawled the rug and retuned my piano

The wallflower is waiting, she behind composure, composure
She'd love to and prays that no one asks her
Then she steals a glance at lovers her fingers tease her hair
And she marvels at the confidence of those who hide their
Then her eyes are closed as she rides with a foreign legionnaire

And my had to shrug
As I beneath the rug and retuned my piano

Romeo is reeling, notches on his thighbone
for one hundred and eleven
And he's as a child as he leads you to his web
Seducing queens and gypsy in the boudoir of his head
Then he wraps with a tablecloth and pretends he is a bed

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled the rug and retuned my piano

Oh, the party must be over, the losers are leaving
But just one is nagging at my caustic mind
So I snuck up close behind me and I gave myself a
And I led myself to the to expose what I had missed
There I saw a laughing maniac who was writing like this

And my shoulders had to
As I crawled beneath the rug and my piano