Luyện nghe bài hát Drying Crapshooter's Blues

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

Jesse was a wild gambler
Won a gang of
Altho' a many gambler's he led in pain
Began to a-loose his money
to be blue, sad and all alone
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 down
i got to die today

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

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

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

I a gang of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin-side
card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll grieve over me
My been a doggone curse

Send players to the graveyard
Dig my grave the ace of spades
I twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff blackjack, lead the parade

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

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

He 22 womens outta the Hampton Hotel
26 off-a Bell
29 women outta North