Luyện nghe bài hát Old Doc Brown

(Spoken)
He was just an old country
In a Kentucky town
Fame and had passed him by
But we saw him frown
As day by day in his way
He us one and all
Many a patient to pay
Altho' doc's fees small

But Old Doc didn't seem to mind
He didn't even out bills
His ambition was to find
It seems, cures for aches and ills
Why nearly half the in my home town
Yes, I'm one of too
Were ushered in by Old Doc
we made our first debut

Tho' he needed his dimes and were times
That he'd a fee
He'd pass it on to some poor
That needed it worse he
But when the hit our town
And drained each meager
The scanty income of Old Doc
Just from bad to worse

He had to sell all of his
Why, he couldn't even pay his office
So to a dusty room over a Livery
Doc Brown and his practice
On the hitchin' at the curb below
To his wares
He nailed a little sign read
'Doc Brown has upstairs'

There he kept on helpin' get well
And his heart was pure gold
But anyone with eyes see
Doc was gettin' old
And then one day he even answer
When knocked upon his door
Old Doc was a-lyin' down
But his - was no more

They found him in an old black suit
And on his face was a smile of
But all the they could find on him
Was a quarter and a copper
So opened up his ledger
And what they saw gave hearts a pull
Beside each name
Old Doc had (*writ) words, 'Paid in full'

It looked the potter's field for Doc
That us some alarm
'Til someone the family graveyard
Out on the farm
Old doc had brought six of their
And Simmons was a grateful
He said, Doc's been one of the family
So, you can let him sleep us

Old Doc should have had a
enough for a king
It's a ghastly joke our town was broke
And no one give a thing
'Cept Jones, the
He did well
an old iron casket
That he'd been able to sell

And the funeral procession, it much
For grace and and style
But wagon loads of mourners
They out for more than a mile
And we a prayer as we laid him there
To beneath the sod
This man who'd earned the
To be on speaking terms God

His was covered with flowers
But not from the shops
Just roses and from folks' garden
And one or two pots
For the depression had hit our little town
And each man carried a
So just picked the wildflowers
As they along the road

We to give him a monument
figured we owed him one
'Cause he'd made our town a place
For all the good done
But monuments cost
So, we did the best we
And on his grave we gently
A monument - of

We pulled up that old post
Where Doc had nailed his
And we painted it and to all of us
It certainly did look
Now the rains and snow has washed
Our white trimmings of
And ain't nothin' left but Doc's own sign
And that is faint

Still, when breezes and flickering stars
Caress our sleeping
And the pale moon shines Kentucky pines
On the grave of Old Doc
You can still see old hitchin' post
As if an to our prayers
Mutely telling the whole wide
Doc has moved up stairs