Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tittsling

"this next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the foundation
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a story. his name was otto titsling. what happened to otto titsling shouldn't happe
A schnauzer. it's a very sad story. I feel I have to it with you."

Otto titsling, and crout,
Had to get very worked up about.
His inventions failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at twice a week.

One night at the opera he saw an
Who's t-ts so big they would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he her fall into the pit,
in by the weight of those terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically this was a mess.
Otto eye-balled the diva lying amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul. he what he had to do!
He ran to his workshop
Where he futzed and and futzed.

For otto titsling had found his
To lift and mold the female
To point the ones to the sky;
To keep the big high and dry!

Every he'd sweat and snort
for the right support.
He tried some string and clips.
Hey! he even his own two lips!

Well, he stiched and he
And he and he stitched
Until one night, in the wee hours of morning,
arose from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! he had invented the first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!

but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the diva's
Bearing the in his hot little hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after many misgivings,
She did.
And the of relief that issued forth
From the mouth
Was so loud it was mistaken by some
To be the onset of the seraken winds
Which would roll through the schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
under the diva's bed
Was other than the very worst
Of the patentees,
debrassiere.
And was watching the scene
a great deal of interest!

Later night, while our broom hilda slept,
the wardrobe phillip softly crept.
He through knickers and corsets galore,
'til he otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "oh, my god! joy! what bliss!
I'm make me a million from this!
Every in the world will wanna buy one.
I can all the goods manufactures in taiwan."

"oh, you!"

The result of this is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a or do you buy a brassiere?