Luyện nghe bài hát Jocko And The Trapeze Lady

Dick

He was a boy when the first came to the dust of his West Texas town.
And twenty years later, he'd spent twenty years as Jocko the Sad Clown.
He did slap-stick gags in grease paint and rags and the people 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 that she to her tent.

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

It was Tulsa, the last stop, the show of the big top, a loud, sell-out crowd filled the seats.
They for the walk-around and cheered for the clowns. The fliers brought them to their feet.
Then a still half-lit 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 looked up to the top of the tent and a hundred feet from the
Swung the trapeze lady, up on the 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 word of fear fell deaf on ear as slowly he started to climb.

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

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

Now, the trapeze lady swings easy and high 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 looks down to the center ring clowns for someone she never has found.
For she still remembers the time when love to her wearing the face of a clown.