Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll build a box for Black
I'm enquirin' on behalf of his
I'd be beholdin' to ya all for a little
Just a indication, just who will dig the hole?

When ya done ransackin' his room, grabbin' anythin' shines
I throw the scraps down on a street like all his books and his
All his books and his and all the junk that he wrote
The whole fuckin' lot up in smoke

Ain't nothin' sacred anymore?
Won't someone will build a box for Paul?

shootin' off his guns, they're shootin' off their mouths
Sayin' 'Fuck with us and die', fuck us and die
Let's see rat of fear go scuttle in their skulls
Cover that eye, that frozen eye

Black puppet in a up against the stonin' wall
Black go to sleep, mama won't scold you anymore

Armies of ants wade up the red streams
Are for the mother pool
Oh Lord it's cruel, oh man hot
Oh man, it's hot and of those ants they just clap to the spot

Who threw the stone at Black Paul?

ask us say the critics and the hacks
The pen pushers and the
We come to get the facts
Oh we just come to get the

Here is the hammer that build the and built the box
Here is the that dug a hole in this ground of rocks
And here is the pile of and for each one planted
God only knows, a rose grown and listen

These are the true demon
These are the demon flowers
Stand back everyone, blood everyone
Blood black, stand

Who'll build a box for Paul?
And who'll carry it up the

Not I said the widow, adjusting her
I not drive the nail or cart his puppet body home
For I done that one times before
Yes, one hundred or more

And why should I his wounds?
When he has my dress
Nightly, right the floor

Who'll build a box for Black
And who'll, carry it up the hill?
Now bury him in the black soil?

the woods and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his
We love you, I you
And this not hurt a bit

'Outta my eyes we shall to fall, to fall to glory
Spring up from the
up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up into death
Up, up, up, up, up, up, up inhale its
Yes, death favours those that favor

is the stone and this is the inscription at bare
Below lies Black Paul the upper
But above and beyond the surface flat there

And, and, and, and all the come on down
And all you men and women crowd
And all the old weeping into their skites
And all the little gals and the boys
And the scribes with pens poised

All the hullabaloo, all the
All the hullabaloo, all the
All the hullabaloo, all of the
Clears his of Black Blood
And Black Paul like a lonely boy

Well, I have one thousand tears
And I've cried a tears, it's true
And the next stormy you know
That I'm still them for you

Well, I had, I had a gal, she was so
Red dress, long and red hair hangin'
And just ain't heaven
Without that little girl around

Well, am I laughin' bein' a bad man?
The Lord knows I done some good too
But I confess my soul will rest until you, until you've built
you build a box for my gal too, my gal too, my gal too