Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The sweet pretty are in bed now, of course
The city fathers, trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul horse
But the town has no need to be

The ghost of Belle Starr, she down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently
A bald wig for the Ripper, who sits
At the of the Chamber of Commerce

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
in the alley, he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen the tombstone blues

The hysterical bride in the arcade
Screaming, she moans, "I've been made"
Then sends out for the doctor, who pulls the shade
And says, "My advice is to not let the in"

Now, the medicine man comes and he shuffles
He walks with a and he says to the bride
"Stop all this weeping, swallow pride
You not die, it's not poison"

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the with the tombstone blues

Well, John the Baptist, after a thief
Looks up at his hero, the
Saying, "Tell me, great hero, but please it brief
Is a hole for me to get sick in?"

The answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all who would whimper and cry"
And, a barbell, he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow, chicken"

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's for food
I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone

The of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their
Puts the pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out to the

Gypsy Davey a blowtorch, he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro behind him, he
a fantastic collection of stamps
To win and influence his uncle

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in trouble with the blues

The geometry of innocence, on the bone
Causes Galileo's book to get thrown
At Delilah, who's sitting alone
But the on her cheeks are from laughter

I wish I could give Brother Bill his thrill
I set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B.
He could die happily ever

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the with the tombstone blues

Where Ma and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll
Tuba players now rehearse the flagpole
And the Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
To the old home and the college

Now, I wish I write you a melody so plain
That could you, dear lady, from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and the pain
Of your useless and pointless

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues, oh