Luyện nghe bài hát Fireball Rolled A Seven

Somewhere in South near a dirt track there's a shrine
Erected to the memory of a little 'ole of mine
A natural born dirt dauber, car was his game
He rolled 'ole number 7 was his name

the makings of a honker and a roll of bailing wire
He his hopes together and just set them tracks on fire
Three hundred fifty on the a big 7 on each door
In his heart a to win and his right foot on the floor

His motto was a simple one "Stand on it and left.
If gonna beat you make him run"
All he knew was ???? and lead the rest
Fireball a seven and he won.

He took the 600, the old Atlanta 5
Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, for the ride
The hotdogs laid it on him. draft, chart, and sweat.
But Fireball rolled a seven, the that's hard to get.

He had the at Darlington; he won it off the rail.
And he run away at Charlotte, 600 of Hell.
A slingshot sewed up Petty; he was out in real fast.
A checkered flag was in the bag; would get past.

He was flat out in that back shoot; only 3 laps the start.
he saw a yellow bumper cross up and come apart.
A rookie and a shaker, runnin' scared and it all.
A hush fell on that crowd; 7 took the wall.

His old hangs in the hall, the little chargers gone,
To save a friend he it on the line.
His old poncho is and bound, but his memory still lives on.
Fireball rolled a seven time.
Fireball rolled a every time.