Luyện nghe bài hát Dreams Of New Orleans

The taste of skies
Frank Sinatra's eyes
And open of blood
You bet they never so good
I'm coming home, I'm coming
I dream, I dream of New Orleans
We're
Out of control
But the taste of the ocean floors and time tell,
"Yeah, yeah,
Oh,
Maybe meet again,"
Well, get out of your car, come on me

"Mechanical
And address books no names,"
It's the stories I
And wrapped in lace
Tonight I dream, I of New Orleans
I'm home, I'm coming home

We're
Out of again
But the taste of the ocean floors and will tell,
"Yeah, yeah,
Oh,
we'll meet again,"
Well, get out of your car, whore, come on me

(I of New Orleans)
Lift your to the sky
I tonight I die
I tonight we die
I'm home

Tonight I of New Orleans
(I got a gun in New Orleans)
Can a man his own funeral?
(He's got a gun)

Tonight I dream, I dream of New

I of New Orleans.