Luyện nghe bài hát Fireball Rolled A Seven

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

With the of a honker and a roll of bailing wire
He tied his hopes together and just set them on fire
Three hundred fifty on the hood; a big 7 on door
In his heart a will to win and his right foot on the

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

He the world 600, the old Atlanta 5
Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, for the ride
The hotdogs it on him. They'd 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 up Petty; he was out in front real fast.
A flag was in the bag; nobody would get past.

He was flat out in that back shoot; only 3 from 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 skidlid hangs in the hall, the little gone,
To save a he laid it on the line.
His old poncho is rust and bound, but his memory still on.
rolled a seven every time.
Fireball rolled a every time.