Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I her name on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish figure
With her tied to a trigger,
She seemed a total
Her all filled with filler,
Her face a painting
I all her habits,
her snow balls poshly like a judge
But left her lipstick on her mug.
We watched each other
She like bela lugosi,
She me for a ride home
I felt for my comb,
And in the bar room
I combed right her figure,
She through the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat herself me in my van
A on every finger of her hand.

She lived down by the
A flat the council her,
very scenic
Her outlook beatnik,
We watched the and weather
Then through the he entered,
Short and arms of iron
And me just my tie on,
She said the lodger's used to by now
I'd handled all the but not the cow.

Behind her sofa
I found myself sober,
She kept an old
She never used it,
A gift for me with a
A six string an f-hole,
We made the strangest
A and hardy double,
I to play her favourite country songs
With one or two chords always wrong