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Lyrkit pik

Hallo! Ik ben Lirkit!

Ik heb veel manieren geprobeerd om Engelse woorden te onthouden en vond de meest effectieve voor mij!

We hebben alle woorden van de liedjes die we ons hele leven hebben gehoord al in ons geheugen. We hebben er simpelweg geen aandacht aan besteed, maar we horen ze allemaal al!

Ik merkte dat wanneer je een nieuw woord leert uit een liedje dat je al eerder hebt gehoord, je de vertaling van dit woord al voor altijd kent en je het nooit zult vergeten!

Deze methode wil ik met je delen. Het schema is dus als volgt.

We vinden liedjes die we al gehoord hebben.

We voegen alle onbekende woorden ervan toe.

We slagen voor minitests van geheugenspellen. klaar

Nu je veel woorden kent, zul je heel snel de hele taal leren kennen!

Ik wed dat je verrast zult zijn hoe effectief deze methode is!)

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Pulp

Deep Fried In Kelvin

 

Deep Fried In Kelvin


Oh children of the future ... conceived in the toilets at Meadowhall ...
to be raised on the cheap cold slabs of garage floors ...
rolling empty cans down the stairway ... (don't you love that sound?) ...
whilst the thoughts of a bad social worker ran through his head ...
trying to remember what he learnt at training college ...
Lester said he wasn't allowed in here ... so why don't you get lost? ...
and if you grow up ... then when you grow up, maybe ... maybe you can live ...
live on Kelvin ... yeah you can live in Kelvin ...
on the promenade with the concrete walkways ...
where pidgeons go to die ...
(a woman on the fourteenth floor noticed that the ceiling
was bulging as if under a great weight.
When the council investigated they discovered that the man in the flat
above had transported a large quantity of soil into his living-room,
in which several plants he had stolen from a local park were growing.
When questioned, the man said all he wanted was a garden.
When questioned, the man said all he wanted was a garden.) ...
Oh God, I think the future's been fried ... deep fried in Kelvin ...
and now it's rotting behind the remains of a stolen motorbike ...
I haven't touched it, honest ... but there isn't anything else to do ...
we don't need your sad attempts at social conscience based
on taxi-rides home at night when exhibition opens ...
we just want your car radio ... and those Reflux speakers ...
now ... suffer the little children to come to me ...
and I will tend their adventure playground splinters with cigarette burns
and feed them fizzy orange and chips ...
and then they grow up straight and tall ...
and then they grow up to live ... on Kelvin ...
yeah ... we can have ghettos too ...
only we use air-rifles instead of machine-guns ...
stitch that ... and we drunk driving lights ...
in the end ... the question you have to ask yourself is ...
are you talking to me ... or are you chewing a brick?

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?