Luyện nghe bài hát Brunswick

(Thomas)
In the summer all the old men, they sit on front porches,
While the women comb their hair, shell their
And what they've missed.
And the forlorn children scan the
For wayward dogs, fading torches.
It's no amazing sight, it's something I miss.
I hear the trucks
as they crunch gears going through the lanes,
And curse all folk who get stuck in way
And the roaring forklift up
At 7am of a morning
How I cursed them then, now I see another way.
And if I see things a hallowed gaze,
Well is it a crime?
When I ain't been to for a long long time.
There was a kind word you get
>From the man who ran the bar,
And a one from the old bloke
Who lived across the road, and
The footpaths stank with the
Of Alsatians,
The air was with Tip Top Bread,
The morning load.
And if I see through a hallowed gaze,
is it such a crime?
When I ain't been to for a long long time.
And a cottage I think of,
Sometimes when I've drinking,
And in the of my glass,
I see a I've missed,
Of summer walks and trained dogs
And of time for thinking.
So just don't bother asking why the hell I'm pissed.
But if I see things a hallowed gaze,
Well is it a crime?
When I ain't to Brunswick,
No I ain't to Brunswick,
I been nowhere near it for a long long time.