Luyện nghe bài hát Jean The Birdman

He on the saddle
He's on the mane
He thrashes on the back
is a bloody game

Horse doesn't to jump
The looks too wide
Well he every hurdle
With a state of mind

Stay with me, breathe
Take three back
Turn and make a full

The gods are
And tugging at the reins
But taken to his wings
And hit the bank

Heaven may him
But Jean the pulls it off

His finger's on the
His eye is on the
He give the game away
And quickly the bullets off

Six cut short
dreaming they're alive
Blown 'round in circles
an absent state of mind

Who hunter? Who
God America
He doesn't love him

out of nowhere
Lines of traffic deep
A chance to stave the off
And get sleep

may stone him
But the birdman pulls it off

He wears a
His mother to him
wrapped in chains around his heart
Rusted and thin

Don't count on son
All the sing
Don't need to check a weather
We all know tomorrow brings

Life is a farm
Coyotes the mules
Life is a
For risks and flouting rules

Who needs a net?
The world is wide
Just out for card sharks
And the signs

may stone him
But Jean the pulls it off