Luyện nghe bài hát A Town Called Luckey

Happy birthday, you're to 60
You have no land of own
A job you
And a lover mean

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

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

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

I the bloodstained matress underneath
to the local bar and you got yourself a drink

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

It was the most ragtag group you had ever
A slender man with a moustache, a bow tie and nothing
Looking like a preacher son who had in the devil-worshipping scene
He was a looker and he bought you a drink

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

Telling to be humble
Singing to to be free
a middle aged crisis type thing

And he told you how he to be
As an alterboy by his knees
And how he came to lose his
There was no touching but were made

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

A stormcloud, a hurricane if you
A stormcloud, a

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

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