Transkrypcja
Whispess, push away the pen, some person ought some pen. Starstess, smart a whisp you, fly on around the quen. You're looking poor, but like we rest, a moose howl, me hogs scream. Here's the tale of lords over at Enteo, for the gratties must hold me. We'll somber eat and somber sing, kiss night the door, yes, bury the wing. And everybody's blowed, like a dove on the mesko mean. We'll sock the bold and sock the pies, when they cried and barely hies. A dabber and honey's mass, like a dove on the mesko mean. La dee dee la la dee, o dee o dee, a dee dee o dee, a dee dee o dee, o dee o dee, o. A dee dee o dee, a dee o dee, o dee o dee, a dee dee o dee, o. A dee dee o dee, a dee o dee, a dee o dee, o. Lit, lit, rattling to the frat, singing the mole's son nang. The lion have a head and a pallor fly, whine till the rhyme of clay. He'd mingle mine and he'd hide slow, then that's where he'd unseem And lookin' for the mosey low, for the river's nespo's me Well, somewhere reek and somewhere sing, yes, like the fire and it's got every wing The every thing that us clad, like the gout over nespo's me Well, love the bold and love the Christ, that is met in the sunshine dry Every bit of her stress, like the gout over nespo's me Thanks for watching!