Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I wrote her on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish damsel
her tongue tied to a trigger,
She seemed a killer
Her face all filled filler,
Her a painting palette
I all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly a judge
But left her traces on her mug.
We watched other closely
She looks like lugosi,
She asked me for a ride
I around for my comb,
And in the bar room
I combed right her figure,
She wiggled the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat herself me in my van
A ring on finger of her hand.

She down by the river
A flat the council her,
Wallpaper very
Her very beatnik,
We watched the close and
through the door he entered,
Short sleeves and arms of
And me with my tie on,
She said the lodger's used to by now
I'd handled all the but not the cow.

Behind her velvet
I found back sober,
She kept an old
She never ever it,
A for me with a capo
A six with an f-hole,
We the strangest couple
A and hardy double,
I learnt to play her country songs
With one or two chords always going