Luyện nghe bài hát Friday Night At The Drive-In Bingo

In a tiny, tiny southern country town
Two acres of field and a gas
Riding on my moped, for fun
Staring into the sun
Oh, the road is a boulevard
With lights and night-open bars
In my jacket, pack of playing
jacks, jokers, and a queen of hearts

My is beating, beating like Ringo
As I pull into the bingo

Why do the people in the country want to look the people in the city
When the people in the aren't the slightest pretty?
I want the people in the country to flannel shirts
And saggy jeans all in dirt
I want the people in the to be open and kind
But most times I've met those with a narrow
With a big black dog to your behind
If they find out you're not one of their kind

All these thoughts as I up a zingo
Friday night at the drive-in

So this is what they do out for fun?
play bingo and let their engines run
Tonight's is a pig, hey, that's criminal
G-42, ooh, I'm going
I'm gather up a few of my friends
As many fits into an army
Just your savings and a bottle of wine
To night's reversal of time

This little southwest village shouldn't that much
Maybe a handful of or a hundred bucks
We have wild, wild parties in that big old lodge
And the windmill's perfect for and such
We fake our deaths to get insurance money
And take on names, I'd be Snowphish, you'd be Sunny
We could start a little farm with little bunnies
Just 'cause watching them copulate is very

a cow and an ostrich just waiting for you
A glass of apple cider just for you
The of 1952 just waiting for you
And all I'm here is just waiting for you

A daydream, I'm up in limbo
Friday night at the drive-in