Luyện nghe bài hát Last Day of a Dying Breed

My name's Franks, an' my Daddy's name was Ray.
Ray was a boy, a cowboy an' a banker.
A clerk, a roughneck, a driller,
A driver, a soldier an' a mechanic.
He was also a friend to everybody he met.
Ray me the value of Faith an' family,
The American flag, work, honesty an' a good dog.
I hope my Daddy Ray wasn't the last of a breed.

He's a cold beer drinker, a buck hunter:
The best a dog ever had.
A post-hole-digger, a mint dipper,
Deere cap supportin' man.
With a on a hill and a pond in the field,
Surrounded by a mess of rows.
a livin' from his labor, gives credit to the Maker,
He's somebody knows.

Last of a dying breed who tend the and mend the fences.
Heaven knows, I'd hate to that generation might be ending,
But if he goes, he will go down in
As the last, the last of

wearers, farmer tan terrors,
at the VFW hall. (Hall)
Cake pan lickers, ripe pickers,
Hay loadin' trailers in the Fall.
Fruit sellers, town square dwellers,
Who gather at The Dairy at dawn.
Everybody knows him an' loves him:
God, I'm miss him when he's gone.

Last of a dying breed who tend the fields and the fences.
Heaven knows, I'd hate to think generation might be ending,
But if he goes, he will go down in
As the last, the of a dying breed.

(Last of a breed.)
He's a hard-working man.
(Last of a breed.)

Last of a dying breed who tend the and mend the fences.
Heaven knows, I'd hate to think that generation be ending,
But if he goes, he go down in history:
As the last, the of a dying breed.
Of a breed.
Of a breed.
Of a Breed.