Luyện nghe bài hát The Priests Of The Golden Bull

Who brought the bomb up in business cards
And stained with
Who hires a maid to wash his
Who keeps on the take?
Who outspoken third-worlders in jail
Just to them down?
Oh the vary from place to place but the truth is still the same,
in this town

Money junkies all over the
Trample us on way to the bank
They run in every

Third-worlders see it
The dynamite, the dozers, the and the acid rain
The caterpillars come into our backyards
And turn the world to pocket
Reservations are the nuclear
Uranium kills
starving in a handful of gluttons
We're drowning in gravy spills

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

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

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

Their tongues are silver
a lack of wisdom,
You can it on their breath