Luyện nghe bài hát Copper Canteen

Honey, you be yelling at me when I'm cleaning my gun
I'll wash the blood off the tailgate when season's done
We got one weekend to go
And I'd like to one more doe

So I'll shovel the sidewalk again you're still in a stew
I bet the bridge tender's widow won't mind that I can't you
sure got the run of the men
Out here where the pickin's are and there's not much to do

I woke up last night in the grip of a fright scared to breathe for I might make a
life that we craved so little we saved between the grandparents graves and the grandchildren's toys

We grew up and our children don't know what that means
We turned into our parents we were out of our teens
Through a series of and Fords
The occasional spin round the floor at the Canteen

Now the big boxes out on the are shaving us thin
I guess we'll hold on a couple years 'til the pension kicks in
Then we'll all the stock in the store
only the lock on the door
And wonder then

When I up at night in the grip of a fright and you hold me so tight to your chest
Then breath on my skin still pulls me back in 'til I'm weightless and then I can rest

So if Monsignor should pull you aside as leaving the church
And I'm out on the ice, dropping for the walleye and perch
Tell him it's not your job to bring me to the
And I'd stand out in the cold

And honey I know the woodpile's low and you can't close the flue
So I'll split up a couple more cords 'fore the winter through
on to your rosary beads
Leave me to my mischievous deeds like we do