Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The sweet pretty things are in bed now, of
The fathers, they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul horse
But the town has no need to be

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

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

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

Now, the medicine man and he shuffles inside
He with a swagger 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 ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

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

The Commander-in-Chief answers him while a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would and cry"
And, dropping a barbell, he 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 lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

The king of the Philistines, his to save
Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their
Puts the pied pipers in and fattens the slaves
Then sends out to the jungle

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

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

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

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

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

Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once their bedroll
players now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a sells road maps for the soul
To the old folks' and the college

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

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 blues, oh right