Luyện nghe bài hát Bags of Dirt

The more change, the more they stay the same
And the more it rains, the less I
Why do these foreign skies change the way
Why do these walls hang their strangeness on my own?

Oh mama, I'm gonna roll with a of hurt
These wheels have rolled across I don't know how many bags of

Barefoot in the of the van
Tossing an arcing soda can
Long ways, long days, waitresses
And underpaid we were and waylaid
We arrived that and not a moment too soon
Finding a place it was, you may say,

Oh mama, I'm gonna with a truckload of hurt
These wheels have rolled I don't know how many bags of dirt

These of an infinite architecture
Are ink and unconfirmed
A dream glimpse of the puppeteer's
A fragment of a fraction of a
And when the ghost whispers, I'll set all I hear
A garbled, shorthand by a marionette in fear

Oh mama, I'm gonna with a truckload of hurt
These wheels have rolled across I don't know how many bags of

Oh mama, I'm roll with a truckload of hurt
These wheels have rolled across I don't know how bags of dirt