Luyện nghe bài hát The Vile Stuff

Year 7's on a trip to Featherstone Castle and some wee scallywag's brung a Coca-Cola bottle containing a spirit
Poor Peter Hepplethwaite cracks open his head on a brass bedknob
And has to be rushed by helicopter ambulance to Hospital
Si Shovell fills a Reebok with the pulp from his belly then sets off a fire-extinguisher in the girl's dormitory
And finally clambers bed with Miss Bartholomew
Much to the chagrin of the deputy headmaster whose scarlet skull is firmly between her thighs

I only drank a few droplets
I only took a tiny draught of the stuff

Downing Asda's stubbies in the lad's bogs
I to the dull reflection of a carillon in the toilet bowl
My A-Levels drifting away me
Matthew Mooney's hockle in my hair smells like menthol
Outside the chip-shop Thaddeus Wagstaff fractures my
3 empty cans of Castlemaine XXX go rolling my trouser leg
Blood, snot and curry coalesce in the of my nails
My friends away from me

I only drank a few little
I only took a tiny of the vile stuff

Attempting to penetrate a coconut husk with a screwdriver
I pierce a straight through my hand into the laminate worktop
It's a major operation to repair a damaged
I come around the tube still down my throat
The milk of amnesia my cup and back into the hole I go
Snoring like a pan of I arouse the ire of my fellow patients wagging their ladles in the dark

My neighbor Andrew lost two to a Staffy-cross
Whilst over Cow Hill with a Pepperami in his bum-bag
He's a junior partner at & james no-win no-fee solicitor thinking of relocating to a Buddhist monastery in Halifax
He I should try meditation
He reckons it benefit my peace of mind

My bedroom walls are papered with the of Newcastle United
Between which I perceive the presence of a horse-headed figure holding a flaming quiver of bramble silhouettes
He is the of Children singing like a boiler, "tomorrow is on its way"

I haven't had a wink of and now the sun is in my porridge
I'm starting a in engineering at Tynemouth College
My thermos flask leaks parsnip soup on the clogging up the keys of my MacBook
Carrot pennies steam a pyre of pencils
dripping up the steps of WH Smith to buy a fresh pad of paper

I drank a few little droplets
I only took a tiny of the vile stuff