Luyện nghe bài hát Gun Street Girl

Falling in the Tahoe mud
Stick to tell us all the tale
He fell in with a Gun Street girl and
Now he's dancing in the jail
in the Birmingham jail

Took a 100 off a Slaughterhouse Joe
a bran' new Michigan 20 gauge
Got all liquored up on that roadhouse
Blew a hole in the of a yellow corvette
Blew a hole in the hood of a corvette
Bought a second hand from a Cuban Chinese
his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco
With a radio, quarter past 4
Well he Waukegan at the slammin' of the door
He Waukegan at the slammin' of the door

I said, John, John long gone
to Indiana
Ain't never coming
I said John, he's long gone
to Indiana
Ain't coming home

in a sycamore in St. John's Wood
Soakin' day old in kerosene
He was blue as a robin's egg as a hog
Stayin' out of circulation till the dogs get
Stayin' out of circulation till the dogs get

fixed the toilet with an old trombone
He never got up in the morning on a
Sittin' by the with a bull whipped dog
everyone he saw
They thatta way
everyone he saw
They went way

Now the rain's gravel on an old tin roof
And the Northern's pullin' out of the world
With a head full of bourbon and a dream in the
And a Gun Street was the cause of it all
A Gun girl was the cause of it all

Riding in the by the St. Joe Ridge
He heard the click clack tappin' of a blind man's
into Baker on a New Year's Eve
With one eye on the pistol and the on the door
With one eye on the pistol and the other on the

Miss Charlotte took her satchel down to Fish Row
And she smuggled in a bran' new of alligator shoes
With her fireman's and her long yellow hair, well
They tied her to a with a skinny millionaire
They tied her to a tree with a millionaire

I said, John, John he's long
to Indiana
Ain't never coming
I John, John he's long gone
Gone to
never coming home
Bangin' on a table an old tin cup
Sing I'll never a Gun Street Girl again
I'll never a Gun Street Girl again

I said, John, John long gone
Gone to
Ain't never coming
I said John, John he's gone
to Indiana
Ain't never home