Luyện nghe bài hát Tuzla

Of all the treasure in our
We the golden God of war the best

Look, look at little clown
Here, look through the
burned his schoolhouse down
And blinking in the sun
He's something in the sun

Ha, an old tea bag, now, he rolls it up
Look, he made a
But not gonna smoke it yet
he's gonna sell it
How do you think he'll get?

A slice of ham, a long goodbye, three of peace
A bar of soap, a can of oil, ten years of
A pinch of salt, a week of news, double A's
A plastic bag, a to hide, one sucker bet

I got what you
You got what I

Of all the sterling men of
We the one who'll teach us not to feel

Look at the guy selling
the hell did he get it from?
He's the king of the
He's the bug that the bomb
See the smirk on his face

a bottle to the mortal foe
It's not the time to kill, not he forgets
As he a crumpled bill
And this is better yet

A pot for the rain, a pair of shoes, two grenades
A spade for the grave, four lovely eggs, three
A stick of gum, some wood for a fire, two table
A cup of rice, a pint of blood, one pound of

Line up to buy
up to die there

Look, look through that
Looks like your
In a bed
Look, on the table
like she did it for a loaf of bread

Shit, got a knife
And snoring like a pig
Is he worth alive or dead?
How much for his
How for his head?

Though all the and all the times
We count the coin and stash away the