Luyện nghe bài hát The Priests Of The Golden Bull

Who brought the bomb up in business cards
And stained steak?
Who a maid to wash his money?
Who politicians on the take?
Who puts third-worlders in jail
to shut them down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the is still the same,
Even in town

junkies all over the world
Trample us on way to the bank
run in every race

Third-worlders see it
The dynamite, the dozers, the and the acid rain
The corporate come into our backyards
And the world to pocket change
are the nuclear frontline;
Uranium poisoning
starving in a handful of gluttons
We're in their gravy spills

tongues are silver forks
There's a of wisdom,
You can it on their breath

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

was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile
He raised a crooked sixpence to a crooked style
He won a crooked vote and a crooked smile

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