Luyện nghe bài hát Growltiger's Last Stand

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

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

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

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

Woe to the canary that fluttered from its cage
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that Growltiger's rage
Woe the bristly bandicoot that lurks on ships
And woe to any cat with Growltiger came to grips

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

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

In the forepeak of the vessel, Growltiger stood

his attention on the lady Griddlebone
And his raffish crew were sleeping in their and their bunks
As the Siamese creeping in their sampans and their junks

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

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

Oh, how well I the old Bull and Bush
Where we to go down of a Sattaday night,
Where, when anything happened, it came 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 named M'Caw,
That brought all those to the bar.
Ah! He was the of the bar.

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

And then 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 have nothick, no not that much said.

If it to an argument, or a dispute,
She'd settle it offhand with the toe of her
Or as likely as not put her through your eye.
But when we was happy and 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!
Come us a tune on your pastoral flute!"
And strike up on his pastoral flute,
And Billy'd up on his pastoral flute.
And then we'd balmy, in each eye a tear,
And emotion would make us all more beer.

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

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

Then Genghis gave the signal to his Mongolian hordes
Abandoning their sampans, the chinks they swarmed
Abandoning their sampans, their pullaways, and
They battened the hatches on the crew within their bunks

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

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

Oh there was joy in when the news flew through the land
At Maidenhead and Henley there was dancing on the
Rats were roasted in Brentford and Victoria Dock
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 when I made