Luyện nghe bài hát A Box For Black Paul

Who'll build a box for Black
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 ransackin' his room, grabbin' that shines
I throw the scraps down on a like all his books and his notes
All his and his notes and all the junk that he wrote
The whole lot right up in smoke

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

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

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

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

Who threw the first stone at Paul?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Outta my 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 its breath
Yes, death favours those that death

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

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

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

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

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

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