Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Mr. Ford

Well, if you're one of the who own one of them
Gas drinking, piston clinking, air polluting, smoke
Four wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay
I'm about to your song son

Well, I'm not a man appointed
To bear ill-will and hold a
But I think time I said me a few choice words
All about demon automobile
A metal box the polyglass wheel
The end to the dream of Henry Ford

Well, I've got a car that's mine
That me and the company own
A made pile of manufactured grief
And if I out of gas in the pouring rain
I'm a-changing a in a hurricane
I once three days lost on a cloverleaf

Well, it just the smoke and the traffic jam
That makes me the bitter I am
But this four wheel is a-dollaring me to death
For gas and oils and fluids and
And wires and and anti-freeze
And accessories, well honey that's something else

Well, you can get a stereo tape and a TV
Get a bar and reclining seats
And pay once a month, like you do your rent
Well, I figured it up and over a of time
This thousand dollar car of mine
Costs fourteen dollars and ninety-nine cents

Well, now Lord Mr. Ford, I just wish that you see
What your simple carriage has become
Well, it seems your to man
To say the least, got a little out of
Well, Lord Mr. Ford, what have you

Now the average father and mother
Own one whole car and another
And I bet that half a car is a to buy, don't you?
But the thing amazes me I guess
Is the way we a man's success
By the kind of an automobile he can to buy

now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Right turn, no turn, turn, stop
Get out the card honey, we're out of gas
Well, now all the placed end to end
reach to the moon and back again
And there'd be some fool pull out to pass

now, how I yearn for the good old days
Without that carbon monoxide
A-hanging over the of the interstate
Well, if the that made the moon and stars
have meant for me and you to have cars
He'd have seen that we was all born with a space

Lord Mr. Ford, I wish that you could see
What your horseless carriage has become
Well, it seems your to man
To say the least, got a little out of
Well, Lord Mr. Ford, what have you

Come away me Lucille
In my smoking, automobile