Luyện nghe bài hát Bags of Dirt

The things change, the more they stay the same
And the more it rains, the I know
Why do these foreign change the way home?
Why do these hotel walls hang their on my own?

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

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

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

These sketches of an architecture
Are ink and conjecture
A glimpse of the puppeteer's knuckle
A fragment of a of a gesture
And when the whispers, I'll set down all I hear
A garbled, shorthand by a marionette in fear

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

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