Luyện nghe bài hát Jolson and Jones

As the of spring lolls its head against the window
As the grossness of lolls its bloodshot head
Curare! Curare! Curare!
Brogue cries the street
Curare! Curare!
As the grossness of spring
A tumor balloon to against the window
With the of spring staining into the walls
The chair had been shifted so slightly
Say feet or two centimeters
The prints of my fingers dusted from
A lamp had dimmed
Some sawdust where a had been
Where nice girls were into whores
Gardens fountains where peacocks had strutted
Where deaf were born
The splendor of tigers turning to in the desert
meadows of stranded pyramids
boy
such a boy
There's a in the air
Curare! Curare! Curare!
But the fair don't seem to care
Curare! Curare! Curare!
As the of spring lolls its head against the window
As the grossness of lolls its bloodshot head
I got up so slowly
Shuffled the floor
Closed the door on the
Descending the
Dipping the street
The street
Brogue "Good afternoon!"
I say "Good afternoon!"
"It's a afternoon"
"Yes, a lovely afternoon"I
Into pockets unstitching so weighted pins
Into eyes imploding on mazes of
The puddle the cork
on a mild chop that rolled in
Off the river Dix and the open water
Brogue
"I'LL A DONKEY IN THE STREETS OF GALWAY"
me
"I'LL A DONKEY IN THE STREETS OF GALWAY"

"I'LL PUNCH A DONKEY IN THE OF GALWAY"
"I'LL PUNCH A IN THE STREETS OF GALWAY"
boy
Such a boy
In her voice, there's a
boy
Such a boy
and e-e-aw