Luyện nghe bài hát Old Spur Line

The in the details,
And reverend's into retail.
Your soul's alone in world of stone, you'll find
So can you do,
You wery Jew?
Well, every dirt road leads to the for ya this time.
Yeah, all lead home.
But not the ramshackle tracks Sheenan Brigde Road.
Don't go pokin' down that crooked Old Spur
Yeah, tread ye not down the dirty Old Spur Line.

Two railroads in a yellow wildwood.
It's raining meat, poppin' dents in hood.
It's a mortal of blackjack vines,
Blurred around the egdes a red-soaked sky.
Dryrotted, ties
up the muck in the trenches down the side.
Don't ye go down that crooked Old Spur Line.
Tread ye not down the dirty Old Spur Line.

Hear the greasy, grandma
on a bowesaw.
She says "Do as thou wilt shall be of my law."
Well, she her eyes.
And she her tees.
And she pokin' a stick, when you swinging in the breese.
Well, ya what she said.
Ya got rocks in your
And hear turned to f#DEAD.
Don't go pokin' down the crooked Old Line.

See po' 'Rithmethic, the dog run.
He puts three and he carries the one.
And Deacon Snitch paintin' on the thighs
Of the naked pigs on a barbeque sign.
ain't right in the head down there.
Do a quick about for ye best beware.
Tread ye not down the crooked Old Line.

down the track and it's at your own peril.
The fields are all fallow and the are all feral.
Dead cows in the of the Live Oak trees,
Left there to rot the water recedes.
No is made and the buildings tumble down.
And the only that grows are the gullies all around.
Tread ye not down the dirty rotten Old Line.