Luyện nghe bài hát Motorpsycho Nightmare

I on a farmhouse
for a place to stay
I was mighty, tired
I had a long, long way
I said, "Hey, hey, in
Is anybody home?"
I was standin' on the
Feelin' most
Well, out comes a
He have thought that I was nuts
He immediately at me
And a gun into my guts

I down
To my bended
Saying, "I dig
Don't me, please!"
He his rifle
And began to
"Are you that salesman
That I have about?"
I said, "No! No! No!
I'm a and it's true
I'm a kid
And I to college, too"

Then in comes his
name was Rita.
She looked like she out of
La Vita
I immediately to cool it
her dad
And him what a
Nice, pretty he had
He said, "What do
Know about farms, tell?"
I said, "I was
At the bottom of a well"

Well, by the 'neath my nails
I he knew I wouldn't lie
He "I guess you're tired"
He it kinda sly
I said, "Yes, ten miles
I drove"
He said, "I got a bed for you
Underneath the
Just one
And you go to right now
That you don't my daughter
And in the morning, the cow"

I was sleepin' a rat
When I something jerkin'
stood Rita
Lookin' just like Perkins
She said, "Would you like to take a
I'll you up to the door"
I said, "Oh, no! no!
I've been this movie before"
I knew I had to
But I know how
she said,
"Would you like to take shower, now?"

Well, I leave
Unless the old man me out
I'd already promised
That I'd his cows
I had to say
To strike him very
So I
"I Fidel Castro and his beard"
Rita offended
But she got out of the way
As he came charging the stairs
Sayin', "What's I heard you say?"

I said, "I Fidel Castro
I you heard me right"
And I ducked as he
At me with all his
Rita something
'Bout her mother on the
As his fist had hit the
He said he's going to
Me if I get out the door
In two seconds
"You
Rotten Commie rat"

Well, he a Reader's Digest
At my and I did run
I did a
As I him get his gun
And through the window
At a hundred miles an
And fully blast
In his garden
said, "Come back!"
And he started to
The sun was up
And I was down the road

Well, I figure I'll be back
for a spell
Even though Rita away
And got a job in a
He still for me
Constant, on the sly
He wants to me in
To the F.B.I.
Me, I and stomping
as I romp
Without of speech
I might be in the