Luyện nghe bài hát Book of John

We were sittin' round the supper table and the of the frigidaire
Was the only sound momma laid down, a book she found upstairs
It was covered in dust in the of the closet,
box we almost tossed it out
We could lost all those memories

was a picture of mama in the pouring rain
Ticket stubs to a game
Silver and a baggage claim from Hanoi, Vietnam
was a picture of him callin' on grandpa
Leather skin a baseball
We laughed and cried, told stories all long
From the of John

Now the pot of coffee's almost gone, as we turn page
We're climbing on him like a Jungle Jim, watching his hair gray
All the Polaroids are reminders,
You can't life in a three ring binder
We flipped on 'em anyway

There's a picture at his sister taken in
On the steps of the pulling out his tie
Hair's still wet from gettin' baptized, the brand new blue on
An old set of keys to his
A up receipt for a wedding ring
We watched ourselves up there in his arms
In the of John

That sun came up, we wide awake
Head to toe in and gray
Long black waiting down the drive
He was father, son, husband and
I still flip it every now and then
When I need just a few of advice
almost like he's not really gone
And I know one day I'll be on
The of John