Luyện nghe bài hát Pacemaker

Juveniles, hide your mags
The girl's got problems at her
So she's packing up her full of rags
Her man got from Po Na Na
the madre still in the kitchen
Smokes a 20-deck

bags come back on planes from war torn Iraq
It's the naked truth, a dark aftermath
Baby T, the and the dog just barks
man the bully always had the last laugh

It was a blast night down the old 12 Bar
White socks, black with the ballads in the car
With a lump in a throat she understand
Twos on a cigarette it's all blah

Bloody obla dah glug down liquor
Life goes on for all the day
Starts off small but it's gonna get
By the end of this it may all be better

Well, she's always asking the who, where and how
The say, 'Ooh, la, la'
Well, if I had another I'd do it differently now
And the say, 'Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'

From Trafalgar Square where the pipe reeking
To in your dark damp flat, the leaking
You fell in love when you started chatting
But got so bored 'cause she never speaking

Consider this son on the bad
He's keeping all the freebies, delivering the
You hate us, down fakers
Oh, you'll never get nowhere, I'm the pacemaker

Pretty please me, oh, she's on the eye
Some say that today only the young die
Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's been right day
I wanna ask but I don't mean to pry

How did you get to you're going
To before you came moseying through this bar?
You started your race, Cockerel wants his money back
up the man he's a fruit and nut bar

Oh, I gotta see the GP, up lungs
And the doc says, 'Stop or you're die young'
I haven't even to do what I done
You young don't listen, you just on

Well, we this before when your song got sung
Get a grip son, why? 'Cause you're drunken
not captains just skivvy sunken
Humdrum drum, drum, live die young

Mr. stumbling, the road rocky
And trespassers on the property
Remember back it was the ranter banter
Young sons watched their Pa's get cancer

Sandy crying out for he missed her
Missed her so much he went drank the brewery
So Sam this is a song about you
We all out and we got pissed-ola

I don't wanna fight, he's a right big
But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my
Well, it's all a bit of fun 'til someone done
But the say, 'Go on my son, my son'

Well, I'm likely to pick up and run
But the say, 'Go on my son, my son'
Ah fuck it, well, he's a big cunt
But I'll knock him one, that, run, run