Luyện nghe bài hát Changi Banjo

Well the old man in the summer 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 and he just put down his hen.

Well he did two years in Changi in the big door,
He'd been to hell and back again came though it all,
His most prized possession was the that 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 toilet from off his slouch hat brim,
Had a neck and fails to pick for strings,
To the memory of is mates, the Changi banjo rings.

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

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

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

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