Luyện nghe bài hát Fryerstarter

Let me put you up on Bob's
Controller of the warm deep fryer that cobras
Mostly it was ulcers over goat's legs
Will go for maple, custard, buttermilk or wolfs bane?
Hm, after your cinderella pulsate and crash I was rotating casts
if you will a witching hour on week night in the trenches
Where paranoia dead-ends in a bright heaven
With
I know yum
Whether tummy ache or
Keep the funnel cake I'm glaze in vitro
In the of similar believers
Sleepless, who the walls breath and foam at the facial features
Now the yeast, a in the partially hydrogenated
Equal parts flower, faith,
Might replace your previously jesus
But only if you privy to the secret of all secrets

Shh, every night at 12 would march out from the back
With a of raw dough for the pool of hot fat
Show up 1 never get your god back
If just tuning in, walk into the light

I boil oil too, not for
For CCs of japanese innovation that into free parking
heart and 2nd chin that beseech him to squeeze the carbs into the motherboard
You can chew the in cruller form
Locally a seedy danish underworld is bustling where jelly's not a celebrated it's a puppet
Pluck, for canola
5 cow stomachs like a mime with a rope nowhere
Fast, right hand of god on my shoulder, crows swollen, dopey
Combing apple fritters over with folk of opposing
Baby cop thief reverend, body glitter, botched c-section, bronze teeth
Each progressively more
Yet if will defend the rasin bread as codefendants
Some lose religion or view it as
You can tell a friend ifyou are to kill them

Shh, every night at 12 would march out from the back
a tray of raw dough for the pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 never get your god
If you're just in, walk into the light

The fat boys are back, foam fingers over arms
To feverishly their stomachs from golden jars
And stagger through the pulse ofthe gulch on a builder's
Hiding behind his guilty powdered-sugar fingerprints
Seething eventide fever, feeling a little dicey
I'm snake-eye straight to the cakes
Might, fortune-teller up your paper tiger stripe
Great, invaders, the first-name basis patron haters
Who compromise the pilot lights and
Silent night, holy night, invite the out the pagan
Midnight kitchen doors un-caging the enablers butchers in bloody aprons
Can I get a amen?
AMEN, raiders of the lost,
navigate consecutive pastries stations of the cross
No name no
the folk where it virgin mary toast by the loaf
bob

Shh, night at 12 they would march out from the back
With a tray of raw for the pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 get your god back
If you're just tuning in, walk the light