Luyện nghe bài hát Pacemaker

Juveniles, your porno mags
The girl's got problems at her
So she's packing up her full of rags
Her man got from Po Na Na
While the madre still in the
a 20-deck fags

Body bags back on planes from war torn Iraq
It's the stark truth, a dark aftermath
Baby T, the juice and the dog just
Remember man the bully always had the last

It was a blast last down the old 12 Bar
White socks, shoes with the ballads in the car
With a lump in a throat she understand
on a cigarette it's all blah blah

Bloody obli obla dah glug down
Life goes on for all the day
off small but it's gonna get bigger
By the end of this letter it may all be

Well, she's always with the who, where and how
The say, 'Ooh, la, la'
Well, if I had another chance I'd do it now
And the say, 'Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'

From Trafalgar Square where the pipe reeking
To in dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking
You fell in love when you first started
But got so bored 'cause she stopped speaking

this son on the bad behavior
He's all the freebies, delivering the papers
You us, shake down fakers
Oh, never get nowhere, 'cause I'm the pacemaker

Pretty me, oh, she's easy on the eye
Some say that today the good young die
Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's right good day
I wanna ask but I don't mean to pry

How did you get to where you're
To before you came slowly moseying this bar?
You started your race, Johny Cockerel his money back
up the man he's a fruit and nut bar

Oh, I gotta see the GP, coughing up
And the doc says, 'Stop or you're die young'
I haven't even started to do what I
You young don't listen, you carry on

Well, we heard this before when your song got
Get a grip son, why? 'Cause you're drunken
not captains just skivvy sunken
Humdrum drum, drum, live fast die

Mr. stumbling, the road rocky
And trespassers on the private
Remember then it was the ranter banter
Young watched their young Pa's get cancer

Vagabond crying out for he missed her
Missed her so much that he drank the brewery
So sing-a-long Sam this is a about you
We all went out and we got

I don't wanna fight, a right big cunt
But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my
Well, all a bit of fun 'til someone gets done
But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my

Well, I'm more to pick up and run
But the say, 'Go on my son, my son'
Ah fuck it, well, he's a big cunt
But knock him one, fuck that, run, run