Luyện nghe bài hát Lock Keeper

[There is an extensive system of along the St. Lawrence Seaway. The
locks have a marvellous history. It's a they couldn't speak half the
tales they've been privy to. I it probably goes without saying that
everyone who has to travel to make a living will to the parallels in
song. Stan loved the road and performing was life's-blood, but he wanted
very to be the lock-keeper.]
You say, "Well-met again, Lock-keeper!
We're laden even deeper that the before,
Oriental oils and tea brought down Singapore."
As we wait for my lock to
I say, "My has given me a son."
"A son!" you cry, "Is that all you've done?"
She bougainvilla blossoms.
You pluck 'em from her hair and 'em in the tide,
Sweep her in your and carry her inside.
Her catch on your shoulder;
Her eyes grow bold and wiser through her tears
And I say, "How could you to leave her for a year?"
"Then with me" you say, "to where the Southern Cross
high upon your shoulder."
"Come me!" you cry,
"Each day you tend this lock, one day older,
your blood runs colder."
But that anchor chain's a
And it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't your life for one hour of home.
Sure I'm stuck on the Seaway
you compensate for leeway through the Trades;
And you the stars to see the miles you've made.
And you at hearts you've riven,
But which of these has us more love of life,
You, tropic maids, or me, my wife.
"Then with me" you say, "to where the Southern Cross
Rides high your shoulder."
"Ah come me!" you cry,
"Each day you tend this lock, one day older,
While your runs colder."
But that chain's a fetter
And it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your for one hour of home.
Ah your anchor a fetter
And it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your whole life for one hour of home.