Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Basphemous Bill

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

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

For Bill was a dainty kind of and his mind was mighty sot
On a dinky with flowers and grass in a civilized boneyard lot
And where he died or how he died it matter a damn
So long as he had a grave with frills and a epigram

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

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

So I of the contract I'd made with him and I took down from the shelf
The swell box with the silver plate he'd picked out for hisself
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 Yukon wild when it's sixty-nine
When the ice-worms wriggle their 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 like tusks the parka hood

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

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

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

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

Ice white ice like a winding-sheet each smoke-grimed wall
Ice on the stove-pipe ice on the bed ice over all
Sparkling ice on the man's chest glittering ice in his hair
Ice on his ice in his heart ice in his glassy stare

Hard as a log and trussed like a frog with his arms and outspread
I at the coffin I'd brought for him and I gazed at the gruesome dead
And at last I spoke Bill liked his joke but still goldarn his
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
a little 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 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 never so blue
As I sat gazing at that stiff and studying what I'd do
Then I rose and I kicked off the husky that were nosing round about
And I lit a roaring fire in the and I started to thaw Bill out

Well I thawed and I thawed for thirteen days but it didn't seem no
His arms and his legs out like pegs as if they were made of wood
Till at last I said it ain't no use he's froze too hard to
He's obstinate and he lie straight so I guess 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 silver plate
And I came nigh near to shedding a tear as I nailed him safely
Then I stowed him away in my sleigh and I started back to town

So I buried him as the contract was in a grave and deep
And there waiting the Great Clean-up when the the Judgment sluice-heads sweep
And I my pipe and I meditate in the light of the Midnight Sun
And sometimes I if they was the awful things I done

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