Luyện nghe bài hát Bags of Dirt

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

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

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

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

sketches of an infinite architecture
Are ink and unconfirmed
A dream glimpse of the knuckle
A fragment of a fraction of a
And when the ghost whispers, set down all I hear
A garbled, outline by a marionette in fear

Oh mama, I'm gonna roll with a truckload of
These wheels have rolled across I know how many bags of dirt

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