Luyện nghe bài hát Old Spur Line

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

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

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

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

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