Luyện nghe bài hát Fitzgerald

Its sad to see art
Hanging on the
So pictures there
But the best of all

I the Indian
The one in ink
In Massachusetts
Long before you

You traded him and many
For a
Your fingers thick hammers
Well, it makes you think
And my father
fill your glass so tall

I was a kid
I gophered in your
Always a word
And you showed me to do

And living
Well, it's hit or miss
But through your stained beard
love rang true

And though you are so
It had to to this
You got off
Because you always of piss
And now you drink
no one bothers you

Oh, Fitzy, oh,
Oh, Fitzy, oh,
Oh, Fitzy, oh,