Luyện nghe bài hát Jolson and Jones

As the grossness of spring lolls its head against the
As the grossness of spring lolls its head
Curare! Curare! Curare!
cries from the street
Curare! Curare!
As the grossness of rose
A balloon to squeak against the window
With the of spring staining into the walls
The chair had shifted ever so slightly
Say five feet or two
The prints of my fingers dusted from
A lamp had dimmed
Some sawdust where a ring had
Where nice girls turned into whores
Gardens with where peacocks had strutted
deaf children were born
The splendor of tigers turning to gold in the
Pale of stranded pyramids
boy
such a boy
There's a in the air
Curare! Curare! Curare!
But the fair senorita don't seem to
Curare! Curare! Curare!
As the grossness of spring its head against the window
As the grossness of spring lolls its head
I got up so slowly
Shuffled the floor
Closed the on the landing
the stairs
Dipping the street
The paralysed
says "Good afternoon!"
I say "Good afternoon!"
"It's a afternoon"
"Yes, a lovely afternoon"I
Into pockets unstitching so weighted with
Into eyes imploding on of sins
The beneath the cork
Bobbing on a mild that rolled in
Off the river Dix and the open beyond
says
"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, a flaw
boy
Such a boy
E-e-aw and