仍是嫉妒她

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一段出色歌词：,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]
不要以为我没发明你又偷偷跑去跟她会晤
不要问我什么看法你的眼神明明就是有鬼
我的忠告可是最后一遍
假如你还一样不知检核检束
跟那个狐狸精闪一边分开我的视线
又怎么了我的大小姐
不用谄谀
我不外是去喝杯咖啡
鬼话连篇
电话不接还摆张臭脸
看你表示
你不要又来小题大作
狐狸精她不要脸阴魂不散真的讨厌
会吗
女:走在路上不论是谁她都一样乱抛媚眼
怎么
我的警告可是最后一遍
如果你要分别我也随意
你最好快报歉不要再装可怜
不要再拿分手当要挟
谁又怕谁
终日把狐狸精挂嘴边
是她犯贱
检查一下是你警惕眼
你不要脸
仍是嫉妒她比你更美呵呵
由于你每次都爱少见多怪
自己乱想乱掰猜忌我的清白
是你不知好歹
切所以我每次跟友人吃完饭即便是男生
我也勤得说出来你说你应不应当
奇异改一改
或者我就不再耍赖不耐心
而后我就学学别人怎么撒娇
一昭嘴巴碎碎念这么快赶着去投胎丫
她认为她本人很美男人看了都会为她心碎
有吗
我是越看越不悦目你到底要站在谁那一边
旁边
我的警告可是最后一遍
如果你还一样不知检点
跟那个狐狸精闪一边离开我的视线
是谁会气到七窍生烟
算你倒楣
只想要直接给你一拳
你想得美
丢到外太空去吃大便
你猪八戒
眼不见为净比拟罗唆
狐狸精狐狸精狐狸精真是讨厌
狐狸精狐狸精狐狸精快滚一边
狐狸精狐狸精我就是看不顺眼
狐狸精狐狸精狐狸精我最厌恶
麦再碎碎念麦再碎碎念哼
麦再碎碎念麦再碎碎念哼
麦再碎碎念麦再碎碎念啊
麦再碎碎念挖谋咻咩听

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

The driver clambered into his seat, clicked his tongue, and we went downhill. The brake squeaked horribly from time to time. At the foot he eased off the noisy mechanism and said, turning half round on his box--
"We shall see some more of them by-and-by."
"More idiots? How many of them are there, then?" I asked.
"There's four of them--children of a farmer near Ploumar here. . . . The parents are dead now," he added, after a while. "The grandmother lives on the farm. In the daytime they knock about on this road, and they come home at dusk along with the cattle. . . . It's a good farm."
We saw the other two: a boy and a girl, as the driver said. They were dressed exactly alike, in shapeless garments with petticoat-like skirts. The imperfect thing that lived within them moved those beings to howl at us from the top of the bank, where they sprawled amongst the tough stalks of furze. Their cropped black heads stuck out from the bright yellow wall of countless small blossoms. The faces were purple with the strain of yelling; the voices sounded blank and cracked like a mechanical imitation of old people's voices; and suddenly ceased when we turned into a lane.
I saw them many times in my wandering about the country. They lived on that road, drifting along its length here and there, according to the inexplicable impulses of their monstrous darkness. They were an offence to the sunshine, a reproach to empty heaven, a blight on the concentrated and purposeful vigour of the wild landscape. In time the story of their parents shaped itself before me out of the listless answers to my questions, out of the indifferent words heard in wayside inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.