Luyện nghe bài hát Old Spur Line

The in the details,
And your reverend's retail.
Your soul's alone in this world of stone, 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 down that crooked Old Spur Line
Yeah, tread ye not down the dirty rotten Old Line.

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

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

See po' 'Rithmethic, the dog run.
He puts down and he carries the one.
And Snitch paintin' pants on the thighs
Of the little naked pigs on a sign.
People ain't right in the head there.
Do a quick about face for ye beware.
Tread ye not down the 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 there to rot the water recedes.
No progress is made and the buildings down.
And the only thing grows are the gullies all around.
Tread ye not down the rotten Old Spur Line.