Luyện nghe bài hát The Priests Of The Golden Bull

Who brought the bomb wrapped up in cards
And stained with
Who a maid to wash his money?
Who politicians on the take?
Who puts outspoken in jail
to shut them down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the is still the same,
Even in this

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 cancer and the rain
The corporate caterpillars come into our
And turn the to pocket change
are the nuclear frontline;
Uranium poisoning
We're starving in a handful of
drowning in their gravy spills

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

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

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

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