Luyện nghe bài hát Bossy

Sat upon an box of
and settled
Through the cracks of floors
Forming little mountains

Fertile soil on which to
My dirty little stone
With to keep it from
down the dusty trail

Brought straight rows
corn and peas
And caves in cold dirt
And the sore throat that

Everyone knew
It ended way
But I still understand
Why milking the cow didn't

She was and had a rough
Muscular tongue for
Salt blocks and brown eyes a cow
And her was Bossy
We eat her I don't think