Luyện nghe bài hát City Of New Orleans

Riding on the of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail
Fisteen and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey the train out of Kankakee
And moves along houses farms and fields
Passing trains have no name and freighyards full of old black men
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles

Good morning how are ya
Say you know me I'm your native son
I'm a train they call the of New Orleans
I'll be five hundred miles when the day is done

Dealing card games with an old man on the car
Many a point and no one keeping
Pass that paper bag that the bottle
Feel the wheels a rumbling the floor
And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of
Ride their father's magic made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep rocking to that gentle
And the of the rails is all they feel
Good America...

Night time on the City of New Orleans changing cars in Memphis
Half way and we'll get there by morning
Through the Mississippi rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and people to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't heard the
The conductor his song again the passengers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearing blues
Good America...