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

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

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

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

He could it high, he could play it low
He could it cry, he could make it moan
He knows when comes 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 music is a like a city thats on fire
Billy felt like an altar boy at the feet of a higher power

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

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

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

Soon the room was
Before Billys of sound
And just a off Bourbon Street
A new been crowned

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