Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Basphemous Bill

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

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

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

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

Years passed away and at one day came a squaw with a story strange
Of a line of traps way back of the Bighorn range
Of a hut by the great divide and a white man stiff and still
there by his lonesome self 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 swell black box with the silver plate he'd picked out for
And I packed it full of grub and and I slung 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 wild when it's sixty-nine below
When the ice-worms wriggle purple heads through the crust of the pale blue snow
When the trees crack like little guns in the silence of the wood
And the icicles hang down tusks under 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 is a frozen ball and the frost-fiend stalks to kill
Well it was just that that day when I set out to look for Bill

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

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

North aye North a land 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 side of a
And I burst in the door and there on the floor to death lay Bill

Ice white ice a winding-sheet sheathing each smoke-grimed wall
Ice on the stove-pipe ice on the bed ice gleaming all
Sparkling ice on the dead man's chest glittering ice in his
Ice on his fingers ice in his ice in his glassy stare

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

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

I'm not a man of the quitting kind but I felt so blue
As I sat there at that stiff and studying what I'd do
Then I rose and I kicked off the husky dogs that nosing round about
And I lit a roaring fire in the stove and I started to thaw out

Well I thawed and I thawed for thirteen days but it didn't seem no
His arms and his legs stuck out pegs as if they were made of wood
Till at last I said it ain't no use 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 Bill's arms and and I laid him snug and straight
In the little coffin he picked hisself with the dinky plate
And I nigh near to shedding a tear as I nailed him safely down
I stowed him away in my Yukon sleigh and I started back to town

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

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