Luyện nghe bài hát A Town Called Luckey

Happy birthday, halfway to 60
You have no land of own
A job you
And a that's mean

And you started noticing a thing
Birds other birds just beyond the screen
So you packed up your things and hopped on the headed east
And you drove for eight days

yourself to be humble
Singing to to be free
Being full aware it's a middle aged crisis type thing

And you drove you saw a sign for a town called Luckey
Spelled
Where the towers rise til the line and meet the streets
Checked into a motel, on cardboard sheets

I covered the matress underneath
Went to the local bar and you got yourself a

Telling yourself to be
Singing to yourself to be
It's a middle aged type thing

It was the most ragtag group you had seen
A man with a moustache, a bow tie and nothing between
Looking like a preacher son who had given in the devil-worshipping
He was a real looker and he you a drink

And you proceeded to him everything
And you getting a bit hysterical it seemed
You laughed like a then you screamed
Oh the doubt and the

Telling yourself to be
Singing to to be free
It's a middle crisis type thing

And he you how he came to be
As an by his father's knees
And how he to lose his faith
There was no touching but were made

And his father's hand in slow motion it was him
And the doubt and disbelief crept over his young heart the black ocean

A stormcloud, a hurricane if you
A stormcloud, a

yourself to be humble
Singing to yourself to be
It's a middle aged type thing
It's a middle aged crisis thing

Go lady, find yourself happy
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type
It's a middle crisis type thing
It's a aged crisis type thing