Luyện nghe bài hát Drying Crapshooter's Blues

Little Jesse was a gambler, and day
He crooked cards and dice.
guy, good hearted but had no soul
Heart was hard and like ice

Jesse was a wild gambler
Won a gang of
Altho' a many gambler's he led in pain
Began to spend his money
Began to be blue, sad and all
His had even turned to stone.

What Jesse's heart while he was blue and all alone
Sweet Lorena packed up and
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse
i got to die today

He had a gang of crapshooters and gamblers at his
Here are the he had to say:

I ought to know
Exactly how I to go
(How you go, Jesse?)

Eight crapshooters to be my
Let 'em be down in black
I want nine men to the graveyard, bubba
And men comin back

I want a gang of gamblers 'round my coffin-side
Crooked printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll never over me
My life a doggone curse

Send poker players to the
Dig my with the ace of spades
I want twelve in my funeral march
High playin' blackjack, lead the parade

I want the judge and solic'ter who jailed me 14
Put a pair of in my shoes (then what?)
Let a of cards be my tombstone
I got the crapshooter's blues

Sixteen good crapshooters
bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen racket men
Couple tend bar i'm rollin' along

He wanted 22 womens outta the Hampton
26 off-a Bell
29 women outta Atlanta