Luyện nghe bài hát Drying Crapshooter's Blues

Little was a gambler, night and day
He used cards and dice.
Sinful guy, good but had no soul
Heart was hard and cold ice

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

What broke heart while he was blue and all alone
Sweet packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse
Boys i got to die

He had a gang of crapshooters and at his bedside
are the words he had to say:

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

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

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

Send poker players to the
Dig my with the ace of spades
I want twelve in my funeral march
High sheriff 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 deck of cards be my
I got the dyin' crapshooter's

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 North Atlanta