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 face all with filler,
Her face a palette
I all her habits,
her snow balls poshly like a judge
But her lipstick traces on her mug.
We watched other closely
She like 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 through the car
the pit of my heart,
Sat beside me in my van
A on every finger of her hand.

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

Behind her sofa
I found back sober,
She an old acoustic
She ever used it,
A for me with a capo
A six with an f-hole,
We made the strangest
A laurel and double,
I learnt to her favourite country songs
With one or two chords always going