Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

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

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

Ain't there nothin' anymore?
Won't someone build a box for Black Paul?

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

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

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

Who threw the first stone at Paul?

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

Here is the hammer that build the scaffold and 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 blood rose and listen

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

Who'll a box for Black Paul?
And carry it up the hill?

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

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

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

From the and the thickets
Come the of his victims
We love you, I you
And will not hurt a bit

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

Here is the stone and this is the at bare
Below lies Black Paul under the
But above and the surface flat fall there

And, and, and, and all the come on down
And all you men and crowd around
And all the old widows weeping into their
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 throat of Blood
And Paul singin' like a lonely boy

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

Well, I had, I had a gal, she was so
Red dress, long and red hair hangin'
And heaven just heaven
Without that little hangin' around

Well, am I laughin' bein' a bad man?
The Lord knows I some good things too
But I my soul will never rest until you, until you've built
you build a box for my gal too, my gal too, my gal too