Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Conley And Billy (the Proof's In The Picken')

Screamin tires and a guitar by his side
got the fever as he rolls on through the night
Some were born to listen, some born to play
He was lightning on the highstrings and thunder on the

He could it high, he could play it low
He could make it cry, he could make it
He knows when comes to shove
The in the pickin

In a smoky little tavern just off of Street
Tobacco stained fingers waited on the beat
was the master, the undisputed king
Hed the town for thirty years with an army of six strings

He could play it high, he could it low
He could make it cry, he could it moan
He knows when push to shove
The in the pickin

Sometimes after midnight, drives through New Orleans
to the French Quarter, theres a man he has to see
The is a raging like a city thats on fire
Billy felt just like an altar boy at the feet of a power

Conley as Billy walked across the room
Opened his case and a tune
The whole club was silent and the lights turned down low
Billy up on the stage and Conley whispered, Go, son, go

He play it high, he could play it low
He make it cry, he could make it moan
He knows when comes to shove
The proofs in the

Conley his hand up, no one made a sound
And he Bill his old archtop and stepped into the crowd
played it soft, Billy played it sad
Then he made it and in came the band

the room was shaking
Before Billys of sound
And just a block off Street
A new kings been

He could play it high, he could it low
He could make it cry, he make it moan
He when push comes to shove
The proofs in the