Luyện nghe bài hát Changi Banjo

Well the old man died in the when the grass was dry and brown,
The long road he'd travelled had finally reached the end,
He was out on the writing letters to his goldfish,
When he heard the curlew calling and he just put his hen.

Well he did two years in Changi in the big door,
He'd been to hell and back again somehow came it all,
His most prized possession was the banjo he smashed,
As he made it all him he helped his comrades ball.

play the Changi bango made of sin,
The bridge piece was the Rising toilet off his slouch hat brim,
Had a broomstick neck and fails to for strings,
To the memory of is mates, the Changi banjo rings.

When he came ashore in like a ghost of rocks and potatoes,
No-one recognised the man behind the face,
No-one the sorrows, only he could tell
Of how he's taking one journey to rest with his old mates.

He'll play his Changi banjo of tin,
The piece was the Rising Sun from off his slouch hat brim,
Had a broomstick neck and to pick his strings,
To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi rings.

He'll play his Changi banjo of tin,
The bridge piece was the Sun from off his slouch hat brim,
Had a neck and nails to pick his strings,
To the memory of is mates, the Changi banjo rings.

To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi rings.