Luyện nghe bài hát Daskarzine

Well Daskarzine, she was bland
As she stretched out in the of the room
She was Oh! so lazy her pistol hand
As her hung hot off the loom
A red-eyed felt like stepping in
But his lines lacked customary cool
Her conversation flowed like treacle a tin
And Chicken like some kind of fool

Oh Yeah!
Her every
Is a in street ballet
And they her name in cheap hotels
From to Marseillaise

seems to hang in the dressing-room air
But no-one knows just whos who
She puts it out wave after
And never to miss the slightest cue
Outside in the
The curtain-boys cry
Their one love is Daskarzine
And for her all die slowly

Oh babe, she says, got to die sometime
Its the thing we do
Why not die month to month
With my touch to help you

Now Chicken left the room feeling and cold
Young Stetson reluctant and lame
Daskarzine had him pidgeonholed
And he was just clinging blindly to his

Im Stetson and I aint so bad, he kept on
But his mind was trapped in some of cage
He had at the ancient art of role-playing
And was fighting to the bleeding stage

On the
A saxaphone
sweet jazz poetry
And it breaks on Daskarzines
Of serenity