Luyện nghe bài hát From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser

From a dead to an old greaser, here's thinking of you.
You remember the long nights; coffee bars;
Black tights and white thighs in shop windows where blonde fully-fashioned a world made of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
When bombs were banned every sunday and the shadows played f.b.i. and tired young sold their instruments of torture --- sat in the station sharing wet dreams of charlie parker, jack
Ac, ren'e magritte, to name a few of the heroes who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to go on living them. old queers with young faces --- who remember your nam
Ough you're a dead beat with tired feet; two ends that don't meet. to a dead from an old greaser. think you must have me all wrong. I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend, if it's th
Ce of pint you need, ask me again.