Luyện nghe bài hát Fly Over States

A couple guys in first on a flight
new York to Los Angeles,
Kinda small talk killing time,
Flirting the flight attendants,
Thirty feet above, could be Oklahoma,
a bunch of square cornfields and wheat farms,
Man it all the same,
and miles of back roads and highways,
Connecting little towns with names,
Who'd want to live there in the middle of nowhere,

They've never through Indiana,
Met the men who that earth,
Planted seed, busted his ass for you and me,
Or a harvest moon in Kansas,
They'd understand why God made fly over states,

I bet that mile long Santa Fe freight engineer's seen it all
Just like that flatbed cowboy stacking US steel on a 3-day
Roads and rails their feet
that sounds like a first class seat

On the plains of
Where they windshield in your eyes
Like a painted sky

You'd think heaven's doors have
understand why God made
Those fly states

Take a across the badlands
Feel that freedom on your
Breathe in all open space
Meet a from Amarillo
You'll why God made
Why want to plant your stakes
In those fly over

Have you ever through Indiana
On the of Oklahoma,
a ride,