Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I her name on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish figure
With her tongue to a trigger,
She seemed a killer
Her all filled with filler,
Her face a palette
I all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly a judge
But left her traces on her mug.
We watched each other
She looks bela lugosi,
She asked me for a home
I around for my comb,
And in the bar mirror
I right through her figure,
She wiggled the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat beside me in my van
A ring on every of her hand.

She lived down by the
A flat the give her,
very scenic
Her very beatnik,
We watched the and weather
Then the door he entered,
Short sleeves and of iron
And me just my tie on,
She said the lodger's to this by now
I'd handled all the but not the cow.

Behind her velvet
I myself back sober,
She an old acoustic
She never used it,
A gift for me with a
A six string an f-hole,
We made the strangest
A and hardy double,
I learnt to play her country songs
With one or two chords always going