Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll a box for Black Paul?
Ah'm enquirin on of his soul
be beholdin to ya all
For a lil information, yes some kinda
who'll dig the hole?
When ya done ransackin his
grabbin that shines,
throw the down on the street
all his books and his notes.
All the junk he wrote
the whole lot right up in smoke
Aint nuthin sacred anymore
Someone build a box for Black Paul?
And there off his guns
and there shootin off their
'Fuck with us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go in their skulls)
'Cover eye! Cover that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a up against the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, won't scold ya anymore
of ants, wade up the lil red streams
they're headin for the
O lord, cruel, O man it's hot!
And of them ants they yes ilot to the spot
Who threw the first at Black Paul?
'Don't ack us', say the and the hacks
The and the quacks
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
Hey,hey,hey,hey...
is the hammer, that build the scaffold,
and the box...
Here is the shovel, dug the hole,
in ground of rocks...
And is the pile of stones!
and for each one planted, God knows,
a grown...
are the true Demon-Flowers!
These are the Demon-Flowers!
Stand back everyone! everyone!
Who'll build a box for Paul?
Who'll carry it up the
Not I', said the widow, his veil
'Ah will not the nail
Or cart his home,
For ah that one hundred times before,
Yeah! ah done that one hundred or more,
And why should ah his wounds?
When he has my dress, nighty,
Right across the
Who'll build a box for Paul?
Who'll it up the hill?
bury it in the black-soil?
And from the and the thickets
the ghosts of his victims
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
'and this not hurt a bit,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up into
up,up,up,up, inhale its
O yeah, Death favours that favor Death'
Here is the stone, and this is the at bare
'Below Lies Paul, Under The Upper...
But and Beyond The Surface-Flat-Fall There.'
And all the come on down,
And all you men and women crowd
And all the weeping into their skirts
And all the lil gals and the lil
And the scribes with mein-pens
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
clears his of black blut
singin Paul like a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah have cryed one tears
cryed a thousand tears, its true
And the next stormy ya know,
That ah'm cryin them for you
Well, ah had a gal she was so sweet,
Red dress, and long red hangin down
And heaven yes ain't
that lil gal hangin around
Well, ya ah've loin a bad-man
and Lord knows ah dun some good too
But ah confess, my soul never rest
Until you, you build
ya build a box for my gal, too.