Luyện nghe bài hát The Priests Of The Golden Bull

Who brought the bomb up in business cards
And with steak?
Who hires a maid to wash his
Who keeps on the take?
Who puts outspoken third-worlders in
Just to shut down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the is still the same,
Even in this

Money junkies all over the
Trample us on their way to the
run in every race

Third-worlders see it
The dynamite, the dozers, the cancer and the acid
The corporate caterpillars into our backyards
And turn the world to change
Reservations are the nuclear
Uranium poisoning
starving in a handful of gluttons
We're drowning in their spills

Their are silver forks
a lack of wisdom,
You can hear it on their

It's delicate confronting these priests of the golden
They preach from the of the bottom line
Their minds rustle with million dollar
You say Silver a hole in your pocket
And Gold burns a hole in soul
Well, uranium burns a hole in
It just out of control

There was a crooked man who walked a crooked
He raised a crooked sixpence to hide a style
He won a vote and smiled a crooked smile

Their tongues are silver
There's a of wisdom,
You can hear it on breath