Luyện nghe bài hát Jocko And The Trapeze Lady

Dick

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

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

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

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

Jocko up to the top of the tent and a hundred feet from the ground
Swung the trapeze lady, up on the high swing, alone, 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 word of fear fell deaf on ear as slowly he started to climb.

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

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

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