Luyện nghe bài hát Jolson and Jones

As the grossness of lolls its head against the window
As the of spring lolls its bloodshot head
Curare! Curare! Curare!
Brogue from the street
Curare! Curare!
As the grossness of spring
A tumor balloon to squeak the window
With the grossness of spring staining into the
The chair had been shifted so slightly
Say five or two centimeters
The of my fingers dusted from doorknobs
A lamp had dimmed
sawdust where a ring had been
Where nice girls turned into whores
Gardens with fountains where peacocks had
Where deaf children were
The splendor of turning to gold in the desert
Pale meadows of stranded
boy
such a boy
a song in the air
Curare! Curare! Curare!
But the fair senorita seem to care
Curare! Curare! Curare!
As the grossness of spring lolls its against the window
As the grossness of spring its bloodshot head
I merely got up so
across the floor
Closed the door on the
Descending the
into the street
The street
Brogue "Good afternoon!"
I say "Good afternoon!"
"It's a afternoon"
"Yes, a lovely afternoon"I
Into unstitching so weighted with pins
Into eyes imploding on of sins
The puddle beneath the
Bobbing on a chop that rolled in
Off the river Dix and the water beyond
Brogue
"I'LL PUNCH A IN THE STREETS OF GALWAY"
me
"I'LL PUNCH A DONKEY IN THE OF GALWAY"

"I'LL PUNCH A IN THE STREETS OF GALWAY"
"I'LL PUNCH A DONKEY IN THE OF GALWAY"
boy
Such a boy
In her voice, a flaw
boy
Such a boy
E-e-aw and