Luyện nghe bài hát The Process

Holy fucking shit! He wrote another fucking
Why does he keep on writing them when has long been gone?
He may not be Gaga, Miley, Jackson, or the
But let me tell you why this bearded has got to sing

Twenty-four/seven, days of the year
In his mind the music 'a blasting in his ears
A-B-C-D-E-F-G, the notes now play
And on the staff, the notes they dance like bearded fucking

It's his process, how he makes himself/(sense of) this wreck
just his process. Send him a motherfucking check

It's just his process, how he makes himself/(sense of) this
It's just his process. Send him a motherfucking

He'll a fucking song for every dick that's ever lived
Pop, blues, rock, funk, dance, and trancethe man just to give
Now up your ears to him, you silly fucking sod
And blast his jams noon till night so loud you'll wake up God

Early in the morn when normal folks are up
He's pounding keys and riding like monster fucking truck
Eighth notes on his and quarters in his tonic
He's regular like fiber man and shits a

Twenty-four/seven, days of the year
In his mind the plays 'a blasting in his ears
A-B-C-D-E-F-G, the notes now play
And on the staff, the they dance like bearded fucking elves

Holy fucking shit! He wrote another song
Why does he keep on writing them when has long been gone?
He may not be Gaga, Miley, Jackson, or the
But let me tell you why this bearded has got to sing

just his process, how he makes himself/(sense of) this wreck
It's just his process. Send him a check

It's his process, how he makes himself/(sense of) this wreck
It's just his process. Send him a check