Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll build a box for Black
Ah'm enquirin on behalf of his
Ah'd be to ya all
For a lil information, yes some information
who'll dig the hole?
When ya ransackin his room
grabbin that shines,
the scrap down on the street
Like all his and his notes.
All the junk that he
the whole fucken lot right up in
Aint there nuthin sacred
Someone will build a box for Paul?
And there off his guns
and shootin off their mouths
saying 'Fuck us ... and die!'
(Let's see rat of fear go scuttle in their skulls)
'Cover that eye! that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a up against the stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma won't scold ya
of ants, wade up the lil red streams
they're for the mother-pool
O lord, cruel, O man it's hot!
And some of them ants they yes to the spot
Who threw the stone at Black Paul?
ack us', say the critics 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...
Here is the hammer, that the scaffold,
and the box...
is the shovel, that dug the hole,
in this of rocks...
And is the pile of stones!
and for one planted, God only knows,
a grown...
These are the Demon-Flowers!
These are the Demon-Flowers!
Stand back everyone! everyone!
Who'll build a box for Black
Who'll it up the hill?
Not I', said the widow, adjusting his
'Ah will not the nail
Or cart his home,
For ah done that one hundred before,
Yeah! ah done that one hundred or more,
And why should ah his wounds?
he has wounded my dress, nighty,
Right the floor'
Who'll build a box for Black
Who'll carry it up the
Who'll bury it in the
And the words and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his
'We you!'
'Ah you!'
this will not hurt a bit,
we'll go up,up,up,up,up Death
up,up,up,up, its breath
O yeah, Death favours those favor Death'
Here is the stone, and this is the at bare
'Below Black Paul, Under The Upper...
But and Beyond The Surface-Flat-Fall There.'
And all the come on down,
And all you men and women around
And all the weeping into their skirts
And all the lil and the lil Boys
And the scribes mein-pens parsed
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all the
All the hullaballoo, all of the
clears his throat of black
singin Black like a lonely boy...
We-e-e-ll, ah have cryed one thousand
Ah've cryed a tears, its true
And the next night ya know,
That still cryin them for you
Well, ah had a gal she was so sweet,
Red dress, and red hair hangin down
And heaven yes heaven
that lil gal hangin around
Well, ya know ah've loin a
and Lord knows ah dun good things too
But ah confess, my will never rest
Until you, until you
ya build a box for my gal, too.