Lyle:
Now, come on, boys! Where's your spirit? I don't hear no singin'. When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Go on, how 'bout a good ol' nigger work song?
Bart:
[singing]
I get no kick from champagne, Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all, So, tell me why should it be true, That I get a belt out of you...
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 07:50

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