Luyện nghe bài hát The Little Lady Preacher

Oh, the little lady preacher the limestone church
never forget her, I guess
She each Sunday mornin' on the local radio
With a big Bible and a snow-white dress

She was nineteen years of age and was to a fault
But I will admit she knew the Bible
A little white lace hanky marked the text she would use
She'd breathe into that and send us all to hell

She had a picker by the name of Luther Short
A soul, lost out in sin
She turn and smile at Luther when the program would commence
With a as sweet as angels she would break out in a hymn

I was for her too with what we call the doghouse bass
I clung to word that passed her lips
She was down on booze and cigarettes and on days to come
And she'd punctuate the prophecy with movements of her

The Lord, knows how I loved her, He was there each she preached
But ol' Luther took her home each Sunday
Lookin' back I recall the way it hurt my tender pride
I longed to be a hero but they're not born

Sometimes ol' Luther showed up at the studio
And was a thing he liked to do
She never said a word to him but a prayer for me
I told her in a way that I'd prayin' for her too

One Sunday her old man showed up and said she was gone
Said she and brother Luther had a
I can see me standin' in that that day
I had to the heartbreak, unemployment and all

I don't where they are, 'cause I ain't seen them people since
Lord, if I judge 'em let me 'em lots o' room
I know ol' Luther Short and he's a hard ol' boy to
And I've often sat and wondered who it was whom