Luyện nghe bài hát Old Spur Line

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

Two diverged in a yellow wildwood.
raining meat, poppin' dents in your hood.
It's a mortal of blackjack vines,
Blurred the egdes hangs a red-soaked sky.
Dryrotted, woodentheet-like
Suckin' up the muck in the down the side.
ye go pokin' down that crooked Old Spur Line.
Tread ye not the dirty rotten Old Spur Line.

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

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

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