Luyện nghe bài hát Comin' Back For More

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'Way up in the
the scrub oaks grow
And the coneys and the play
Where the abound
All in the ground
And the blows cold all day

There's a pile a' stones
On a little a' bones
That's a-what the say
But the folks in City
Well, they a different ditty
It would like to your hair turn gray

Now, it's kind'a hard to
But altercate your mind
If you to go the right way
You take Pass
And stop for no gas
Until you get to Al's Caf

It was the genuine,
pathological
Finger-lickin' caf
It was Al Packer's
Coronary
Cannibal Bar and

Some night
You see a weird light
Up on Cannibal Plateau, say
It's a oak fire
Like a funeral
Old Packer's been all day

A-when the howl
And the cougar's on the
They ain't lookin' for customary prey
Nah, they're for bones
In a pile a' hot
At old Al Caf

Comin' for more
back for more
Baby, comin' back for
Al's
Comin' back for
back for more
Baby, comin' back for

(Old Al
Was a bone-cracker
Got lost in a one day )

When the went to get 'im
Old Al et 'em
And he buried all the in the clay

Now you know them
Wasn't toasted
And they didn't fall in the hay
But it had a hard winter
So he had 'em all for
And they didn't find their until May

Well, the in Lake City
Showed very little
So they sentenced him to hang day
But before they noose 'im
Old Al got an'
He's a-lookin' for you,

[Courtesy of Chip Davis.]

Comin' back for
Comin' for more
Baby, comin' for more
Cafe
Comin' for more
back for more
Baby, comin' for more
(Now up in the snow
Where the scrub grow
And the coneys and the play )

Where the abound
All a-diggin' in the
And the wind cold all day

There's a little a' stones
On a little pile a'
a-what the archaeologists say
But the in Lake City
Well, sing a different ditty
It would like to make hair turn gray

Now, it's hard to find
But it'll altercate mind
If you happen to go the way
You Slumgullion Pass
And stop for no gas
you get yourself to Al's Caf

It was the genuine,
pathological
Finger-lickin' caf
It was Al Legendary
Culinary
Cannibal Bar and

Some dark
You're see a weird light
Up on Plateau, they say Boohoohaha [Chip again.]
It's a scrub oak
Like a funeral
Old been a-cookin' all day

And when the coyotes
And the on the prowl
They lookin' for your customary prey Aahoohoohoohoo [Yeah, it's Chip.]
Nah, they're for bones
In a pile a' hot
At old Al Cafe Bleah! [Could it be... Davis?]