Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Basphemous Bill

I took a to bury the body of blasphemous Bill MacKie
Whenever wherever or whatsoever the of death he die
he die in the light o' day or under the peak-faced moon
In cabin or dance-hall camp or dive mucklucks or patent

On velvet tundra or peak by glacier drift or draw
In muskeg hollow or canyon gloom by avalanche or claw
By battle murder or sudden by pestilence hooch or lead
I swore on the Book I would follow and look I found my tombless dead

For was a dainty kind of cuss and his mind was mighty sot
On a patch with flowers and grass in a civilized boneyard lot
And where he died or how he died it didn't a damn
So as he had a grave with frills and a tombstone epigram

So I promised him and he paid the price in good cheechako
Which the I blowed in that very night down in the Tenderloin
Then I painted a three-foot slab of pine here lies Bill MacKie
And I hung it up on my cabin wall and waited for to die

Years passed away and at last one day a squaw with a story strange
Of a long-deserted line of traps way back of the Bighorn
Of a hut by the great divide and a white man stiff and still
Lying there by his lonesome and I figured it must be Bill

So I thought of the contract I'd made with him and I took from the shelf
The black box with the silver plate he'd picked out for hisself
And I packed it full of grub and hooch and I it on the sleigh
Then I harnessed up my team of and was off at dawn of day

You know what it's like in the Yukon wild when it's sixty-nine
When the ice-worms wriggle their purple heads through the crust of the pale blue
When the pine trees crack like little guns in the of the wood
And the icicles hang down like tusks the parka hood

the stove-pipe smoke breaks sudden off and the sky is weirdly lit
And the careless feel of a bit of steel burns a red-hot spit
When the mercury is a ball and the frost-fiend stalks to kill
Well it was just like that day when I set out to look for Bill

Oh the awful hush that to crush me down on every hand
As I blundered blind with a trail to find that blank and bitter land
dazed half crazed in the winter wild with its grim heartbraking woes
And the ruthless strife for a grip on that only the sourdough knows

North by the North I pressed river and peak and plain
like a dream I slept to lose and I waked to dream again
River and plain and mighty peak and who could stand
As summits blazed he could stand undazed at the foot of the throne of God

North aye North through a accurst shunned by the scouring brutes
And all I heard was my own word and the whine of the malamutes
Till at last I came to a cabin squat built in the of a hill
And I in the door and there on the floor frozen to death lay Bill

Ice ice like a winding-sheet sheathing each smoke-grimed wall
Ice on the ice on the bed ice gleaming over all
Sparkling ice on the dead man's chest ice in his hair
Ice on his fingers ice in his heart ice in his glassy

Hard as a log and like a frog with his arms and legs outspread
I gazed at the coffin I'd brought for him and I gazed at the gruesome
And at last I Bill liked his joke but still goldarn his eyes
A man had ought to consider his in the way he goes and dies

Have you ever in an Arctic hut in the shadow of the Pole
With a coffin six by three and a grief you can't control
Have you ever sat by a frozen corpse that looks at you a grin
And that seems to say you may try all day but never jam me in

I'm not a man of the quitting kind but I never so blue
As I sat there gazing at that stiff and studying I'd do
Then I rose and I kicked off the husky dogs were nosing round about
And I lit a roaring in the stove and I started to thaw Bill out

Well I thawed and I thawed for days but it didn't seem no good
His arms and his legs out like pegs as if they were made of wood
Till at last I said it no use he's froze too hard to thaw
He's obstinate and he won't lie straight so I I got to saw

So I sawed off poor arms and legs and I laid him snug and straight
In the little coffin he picked hisself with the dinky plate
And I came nigh to shedding a tear as I nailed him safely down
Then I stowed him away in my Yukon sleigh and I started to town

So I him as the contract was in a narrow grave and deep
And there he's waiting the Great Clean-up when the the sluice-heads sweep
And I smoke my pipe and I meditate in the light of the Sun
And sometimes I wonder if they was the things I done

And as I sit and the parson talks of the Law
I often think of poor old Bill and how he was to saw