Luyện nghe bài hát Fitzgerald

Its sad to see art
on the wall
So many there
But the best of all

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

You traded him and others
For a
Your fingers from hammers
Well, it makes you think
And my father
Would your glass so tall

I was a kid
I gophered in crew
Always a kind
And you me what to do

And living
Well, always hit or miss
But through your cigarette beard
love rang true

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

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