Luyện nghe bài hát Jocko And The Trapeze Lady

Dick

He was a boy when the circus first came to the of his West Texas town.
And years later, he'd spent twenty years as Jocko the Sad Circus Clown.
He did slap-stick gags in grease paint and rags and the people would laugh 'til cried.
But they never saw past the painted clown to the sad, empty man locked inside.

The trapeze lady easy and gracefully, high in the high trapeze swing.
Her parents were flyers. The circus was her life. The was deep in her veins.
High in the in sequins and pink tights, she flew like a bird in the wind.
The saw dust's on daughter, the strong men who her were all that she brought to her tent.

Jocko worked down with the center ring clowns a sad painted smile on his face
And the lady swung easy and gracefully high in the great canvas space.
Jocko looked up with a tear in his heart and, Lord, he he could fly
For she never down at a baggy pants clown who looked up with love in his eyes.

It was Tulsa, the stop, the last show of the big top, a loud, sell-out crowd filled the seats.
They clapped for the walk-around and cheered for the clowns. The brought them to their feet.
Then a still half-lit match in tender dry grass and soon found the dry saw dust floor.
The flames leaped higher. When the people heard, "Fire!" swept like a wave for the door.

Jocko looked up to the top of the tent and a hundred feet the ground
the trapeze lady, up on the high swing, alone, with no way to get down.
He ran to the ladder led to the platform, she cried, "Jocko, no! There's no time!"
But her quick of fear fell deaf on love's ear as slowly he started to climb.

over hand to the high flier's stand, taking the rope that hung there
With one quick look down, the sad circus looked up and took to the air.
Slow slowly he started to swing, his eyes turned to tears in the smoke.
Faster then faster and as he past her, her strong flier hands found the rope.

She slipped to the ground as the flames found the rigging and licked at the that he held.
He'd below when the rigging let go and down to the saw dust he fell.
She ran to his side and with in her eyes, "Oh, no! Jocko, why?" she cried.
He raised his sad head. "I you," he said and he closed his eyes and he died.

Now, the lady swings easy and gracefully high in the great canvass space.
But a place and a time are etched in her mind of a smile painted on a sad face.
And she sometimes looks down to the center clowns for someone she never has found.
For she remembers the time when love came to her wearing the face of a clown.