Luyện nghe bài hát Permissive Twit

Oh Heaven our Linda
She's really it now
What's more it's all so
I mean her stomachs out
If tells me' mother
She's bound to a fit
Followed by a convulsion
to our permissive twit
She thinks his was Ronald
Or was it Sid or Len
The only that's certain
Is that it Bill or Ben
Our parish priest God him
The very Father Pitt
Will no doubt be sermons
To our dear Permissive
By now the
no doubt have been heard
By almost every bleeding nosy in our alley
all that is
Our own aunt Liz
Who I hear's been deaf since the day our
recorded Sally, Sally,

(Break)

Unless we raise the
have to let it out
What I mean is she will to
it the right way wrong way about
In other let nature
its course and do its bit
For the sake of those concerned
Own dear
permissive twit