Luyện nghe bài hát My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, & I Don't Love Jesus

By: buffett


My head hurts, my feet stink, and I love jesus (oh my lordy it's that...)
It's that kind of
Really was kind of night
Tryin' to tell that my condition is improvin'
And if I don't die by thursday I'll be roarin' night

Went down to the pit
To drink a beer
Listen to the
Merle was in clear

All of a sudden I wad'n
Pickin' country with ol' joe bones
Duval was rockin'
My they starting poppin'

there she sat at the corner of the bar
As I broke string on my ol' guitar
call a cab
Lady pay my tab

And now my head hurts, my stink, and I don't love jesus
(oh my lordy that...)
It's kinda mornin'
Really was kinda night
Tryin' to tell myself that my is improvin'
And if I don't die by thursday I'll be roarin' friday

Gotta get a orange juice
And a darvon for my
I can't all day
layin' in the bed

I'm down to fausto's get some chocolate milk
Can't my life in yer sheets of silk
got to find my way
Crawl out and the day

But now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't jesus
(oh my lordy that...)
It's that mornin'
Really was that night
Tryin' to tell myself that my is improvin'
And if I don't die by I'll be roarin' friday night

Let me ya, I be roarin' friday night
I I'll be