Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

"This story is a true story.
It concerns two of my favorite
industrial theft . . . t-ts!
Mmm, what a combo! This is the . . .
The inventor of the foundation garment
that we women today was a German scientist
and opera lover by the name of Titsling!
is a true story.
His name was Titsling.
What happened to Otto shouldn't happen to a schnauzer.
It's a very sad story. I feel I have to share it you."

Titsling, inventor and kraut,
had nothing to get very up about.
His inventions were failures, his future bleak.
He to the opera at least twice a week.

One night at the he saw an Aida
who's t-ts were so big would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he her fall into the pit,
done in by the of those terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! she blows!
this bitch was a mess.
Otto the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
and he suddenly felt the fire of
his soul. He knew what he had to do!
He ran to his workshop
he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For Otto Titsling had found his
to lift and mold the female
to the small ones to the sky;
to keep the big ones and dry!

Every night he'd and snort
searching for the support.
He some string and paper clips.
Hey! He tried his own two lips!

Well, he stitched and he
and he and he stitched
until finally one night, in the wee of morning,
Otto arose his workbench triumphant.
Yes! He had invented the worlds
over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Hooray!

but ecstatic he ran
down the street to the diva's
bearing the prototype in his hot hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after many misgivings,
she did.
And the sigh of that issued forth
from the mouth
was so loud it was mistaken by some
to be the onset of the Siroccan Winds
which would often roll the Schwarzwald
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did know,
at the moment of his triumph,
under the diva's bed
was none other than the very
of the patent thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And Phil was the scene
with a great of interest!

that night, while our Brun Hilda slept,
into the Philippe softly crept.
He through knickers and corsets galore,
'til he found Otto's and he ran out the door.

Crying, "Oh, my god! joy! What bliss!
I'm gonna me a million from this!
Every woman in the world wanna buy one.
I can have all the goods in Taiwan."

"Oh, you!"

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

"Ohhh! you!"