Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tisling

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

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

One at the opera he saw an Aida
who's t-ts were so big they would often her.
he watched her fall into the pit,
done in by the weight of those t-ts.

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

For Titsling had found his quest:
to and mold the female breast;
to point the small ones to the
to the big ones high and dry!

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

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

but ecstatic he ran
down the street to the house
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 sigh of relief that forth
from the diva's
was so loud that it was mistaken by
to be the onset of the Siroccan Winds
would often roll through the Schwarzwald
a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But did Otto know,
at the moment of his triumph,
lurking the diva's bed
was other than the very worst
of the French thieves,
DeBrassiere.
And was watching the scene
with a great of interest!

Later that night, our Brun Hilda slept,
into the wardrobe softly crept.
He fumbled through and corsets galore,
'til he found titsling and he ran out the door.

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

"Oh, you!"

The of this swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a

"Ohhh! you!"