Luyện nghe bài hát Growltiger's Last Stand

In the fantasy "Growltiger's Last Stand," Gus relives
one such triumph, playing the Growltiger. In this sequence,
Growltiger, a feared feline sea and his amour, Griddlebone,
meet an end after battling a crew of Siamese sailors.

Growltiger was a bravo cat who on a barge
In he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large
From up to Oxford he pursued his evil aims
in his title of the "Terror of the Thames"

His manners and did not calculate to please
His coat was torn and seedy, it was baggy at the
One ear was somewhat missing, no to tell you why
And he scowled upon a hostile from one forbidding eye

The cottagers of knew something of his fame
At Hammersmith and Putney, people shuddered at his
They would fortify the hen house, lock up the silly
When the rumor ran along the shore: on the loose!

Woe to the weak canary that fluttered from its
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced rage
Woe the bandicoot that lurks on foreign ships
And woe to any cat with whom Growltiger to grips

But most to cats of foreign race his hatred had vowed
To cats of foreign and race, no quarter was allowed
The Persian and the Siamese regarded him with
Because it was a Siamese had his missing ear

Now on a peaceful summer night all seemed at play
The tender moon was bright, the barge at Molsey lay
All in the balmy moonlight it lay on the tide
And Growltiger was disposed to show his side

In the forepeak of the vessel, stood alone

Concentrating his on the lady Griddlebone
And his raffish crew were in their barrels and their bunks
As the Siamese came creeping in their sampans and junks

had no eye or ear for aught but Griddlebone
And the lady seemed enraptured by my baritone
Disposed to and awaiting no surprise
But the moonlight shone reflected from a thousand blue eyes

And still and closer the sampans circled 'round
And yet from all the enemy there was not a sound
The foe was armed with toasting and cruel carving knives
And the sang their last duet in danger of their lives

Oh, how well I the old Bull and Bush
we used to go down of a Sattaday night,
Where, when happened, it came with a rush,
For the boss, Mr. Clark, he was polite;

A nice house, from basement to garret
A nice house. Ah, but it was the parrot,
The parrot, the parrot Billy M'Caw,
brought all those folk to the bar.
Ah! He was the of the bar.

Of a Sattaday night, we was all bright,
And LaRose, the barmaid that was,
She'd say "Billy! Billy M'Caw! Come us,
Come us a dance on the bar."
And Billy would dance on the bar, and Billy would on the bar.

And we'd feel balmy, in each eye a tear,
And emotion would make us all more beer.
Lily, she was a girl what had in her head;
She wouldn't have nothick, no not that said.

If it to an argument, or a dispute,
She'd settle it with the toe of her boot
Or as likely as not put her fist through eye.
But we was happy and just a bit dry,
Or when we was thirsty, and a bit sad,
She rap on the bar with that corkscrew she had

And say "Billy! M'Caw!
give us a tune on your pastoral flute!"
And Billy'd strike up on his flute,
And Billy'd strike up on his flute.
And we'd feel balmy, in each eye a tear,
And emotion make us all order more beer.

"Billy! M'Caw!
Come give us a tune on your guitar!"
Billy'd up on his moley guitar,
And strike up on his moley guitar.
And then feel balmy, in each eye a tear,
And emotion would make us all order beer.

"Billy! M'Caw!
Come give us a tune on moley guitar!"
Ah! He was the of the bar.

Then Genghis gave the signal to his fierce hordes
Abandoning their sampans, the chinks swarmed aboard
Abandoning their sampans, pullaways, and junks
They battened down the on the crew within their bunks

Then Griddlebone she a screech for she was badly skeered
I am to admit it, but she quickly disappeared
She probably escaped with ease I'm sure she was not
But a serried of flashing steel Growltiger did surround

The ruthless foe pressed in stubborn rank on rank
Growltiger to his vast was forced to walk the plank
He who a hundred victims had driven to that
At the end of all his crimes was to go kerflip, kerflop

Oh there was joy in Wapping when the flew through the land
At Maidenhead and Henley there was on the Strand
Rats were roasted whole in Brentford and Victoria
And a day of was commanded in Bangkok!

These productions are all very well
But there's nothing to equal from what I hear
That moment of mystery I made history