Luyện nghe bài hát A Howling Dust

The here is hard in summer
so I my father in a tomb of rocks,
a plot behind St. church
to lay the gilded dreams of pitiable men.

With found to the North,
drove out its whores,
its and roughnecks.
settled this camp.

Pa every day to mine.
Id him to the gulch,
my pan and in hand,
a child to riches.

The Mexicans staged
bull and bear near the bar.
They a boy entertained
when there were no to enjoy.

The flooded the quarries,
for less than the Whites.
My would curse the Orientals,
yet came reeking of opium.

A group of my and I
left to the creek.
The kneeled there,
for gold.
We him, and pushed him,
I him with my knife.
He gripped his
and in the air.
The bullet
off of a stone
and my leg.
I ran bawling
to the town.

the Chinaman,
Father the noose.

Law
arrived.
The demanded
that he be and properly tried.

Gangs
at night
the jail.
led,
in hand,
in his cell.
lies.
Tempted
leaves,
the
his arm
the bars.

The mob swiftly grabbed
the gleaners hand.
Father wrapped the
his neck.
The yanked on the rope,
Chinaman and choked,
his brains dashed the wall.

Soon all the gold mines
but that blood did.
Red stains the jail cell wall.
was never tried,
none a foreigner,
but I saw in his eyes.
With all the spent,
the people the town
yet I stayed to here still.
Father died of drink
I did not for him.
I pray the unburdens his sins.

I pray that someone remain to bury me.
I that someone will remain.