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 a total killer
Her all filled with filler,
Her face a painting
I all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly like a
But her lipstick traces on her mug.
We watched each closely
She looks like lugosi,
She asked me for a ride
I felt for my comb,
And in the bar room
I combed through her figure,
She wiggled the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat beside me in my van
A ring on finger of her hand.

She down by the river
A the council give her,
Wallpaper scenic
Her outlook beatnik,
We the close and weather
Then through the he entered,
Short and arms of iron
And me with my tie on,
She said the used to this by now
I'd handled all the but not the cow.

her velvet sofa
I found back sober,
She kept an old
She never used it,
A gift for me a capo
A six with an f-hole,
We made the strangest
A laurel and double,
I to play her favourite country songs
With one or two chords going wrong