Luyện nghe bài hát Drying Crapshooter's Blues

Little was a gambler, night and day
He used crooked and dice.
Sinful guy, good hearted but had no
Heart was hard and like ice

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

What broke Jesse's heart he was blue and all alone
Sweet packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my Jesse down
i got to die today

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

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

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

I want a of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin-side
Crooked printed on my hearse
Don't say the never grieve over me
My been a doggone curse

poker players to the graveyard
Dig my grave with the ace of
I want twelve polices in my march
sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade

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

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

He wanted 22 womens outta the Hampton
26 South Bell
29 outta North Atlanta