Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I her name on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish figure
her tongue tied to a trigger,
She a total 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 each other closely
She looks bela lugosi,
She asked me for a ride
I around for my comb,
And in the bar room
I combed through her figure,
She wiggled through the car
the pit of my heart,
Sat beside me in my van
A ring on every of her hand.

She down by the river
A flat the council her,
very scenic
Her very beatnik,
We watched the and weather
through the door he entered,
Short sleeves and 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.

Behind her sofa
I myself back sober,
She an old acoustic
She ever used it,
A gift for me with a
A six string an f-hole,
We the strangest couple
A laurel and double,
I learnt to play her favourite songs
With one or two always going wrong