Luyện nghe bài hát Gran

Alone and pointless by her self,
she stares at the tin of on the shelf.
By a parafin lamp in a dingy room,
Gran sits and in the thickening gloom.
a gloom that congeals it's so greasy and thick,
You could cut into strips and on a stick.
And hand to friends, but there's nobody there,
Gran, on her own, in a miserable chair.
So don't it at me, point it at Gran.
She needs it more than I do, and more than Anne.
When Princess Anne's 82 and living in a room flat in Hackney,
she could do ... with a bit as well.
Don't it me, don't point at it yourself.
Just point it at and the sardines on the shelf.
Don't point it at me, I've had than enough.
point it at Gran, she could do with plenty of stuff.
Don't it at me, point it Gran.
Well, it be a firehose, or it could be a flan.
Now, some people are happy and some are bored,
and some people are and completely ignored.
So why should your end on a dismal note?