Luyện nghe bài hát Ghost In His Guitar

Down the pipe 'cross the yard and through the fence
I risked a whoopin' every I went
'Cause white boys weren't allowed on the colored of town
But I was proud to that old black man my friend

He had a pillow by the bed he to pray on
And a up old guitar he let me play on
And I knew where my went from his greasy fingerprints
Yeah, he was passin' on was handed down to him

And it soaked up all the blood and and teardrops
And the beers he in smoky little bars
And sometimes old man he comes alive in my hands
I feel the of his sad old broken heart
Just like there's a ghost in this guitar, a ghost in this

Well, the night before he died he made me it
Well he said, "You it now, 'cause I gotta go"
And I can feel him in my fingers I play it
'Cause sometimes I'm in control and sometimes I just sit
And let him go, I sit and let him go

And it up all the blood and sweat and teardrops
And the beers he missed in smoky little
And sometimes that old man he comes in my hands
I feel the of his sad old broken heart
Just like there's a ghost in this guitar, a ghost in this
a listen to the ghost in this guitar