Luyện nghe bài hát Daskarzine

Well Daskarzine, she was bland
As she stretched out in the corner of the
She was Oh! so lazy with her pistol
As her hair hung hot off the
A red-eyed Chicken felt stepping in
But his lines their customary cool
Her flowed like treacle from a tin
And Chicken felt some kind of fool

Oh Yeah!
Her move
Is a in street ballet
And they speak her in cheap hotels
From to Marseillaise

seems to hang in the dressing-room air
But knows just whos seducing who
She puts it out after wave
And never seems to the slightest cue
in the wings
The curtain-boys cry
Their one true love is
And for her all die slowly

Oh babe, she says, got to die sometime
Its the sweetest we do
Why not die from month to
With my touch to you through

Now Chicken left the room feeling and cold
Stetson looked reluctant and lame
Daskarzine had him pidgeonholed
And he was just clinging blindly to his

Im Stetson and I so bad, he kept on saying
But his mind was in some kind of cage
He had at the ancient art of role-playing
And was to leave the bleeding stage

On the
A tenor
sweet jazz poetry
And it breaks on Daskarzines
Of serenity