Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Titsling

"This next story is a true story. it concerns two of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the . . . the inventor of the modern foundation
garment that we women wear was a German scientist and opera lover by the name of Otto Titsling! This is a true story. his name was Otto Titsling. what happened to Otto Titsling shouldn't happen to
a Schnauzer. it's a sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."
Titsling, inventor and Kraut,
Had nothing to get worked up about.
His inventions failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at 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 watched her fall the pit,
Done in by the weight of those t-ts.
Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically this was a mess.
Otto the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly felt the or inspiration
his soul. he knew what he had to do!
He ran to his workshop
Where he and futzed 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
Searching for the support.
He tried some string and clips.
Hey! He even his own two lips!
Well, he stiched and he
And he slaved and he
finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto arose 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 diva did not to try the darn thing on.
But, many initial misgivings,
She did.
And the sigh of relief issued forth
From the diva's
Was so that it was mistaken by some
To be the early onset of the Sciroccan
Which would blow through the Schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!
But little did know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
under the diva's bed
Was none other than the worst
Of the French thieves,
de Brassiere.
And Phil was the scene
With a great of interest!
Later that night, our Brunhilde slept,
Into the wardrobe Philip crept.
He fumbled through knickers and galore,
he found Otto's 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 goods in Taiwan."
"Oh, you!"
The result of this swindle is pointedly
Do you buy a or do you buy a Brassiere?