Luyện nghe bài hát Old Spur Line

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

Two railroads diverged in a wildwood.
It's raining meat, dents in your hood.
It's a mortal coil of vines,
Blurred around the egdes 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.
ye not down 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' a stick, when you swinging in the breese.
Well, ya heard she said.
Ya got in your 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 three and he the one.
And Deacon Snitch paintin' pants on the
Of the little pigs on a barbeque sign.
People right 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 at your own peril.
The fields are all and the beasts are all feral.
Dead cows in the boughs of the Oak trees,
Left there to rot when the recedes.
No is made and the buildings tumble down.
And the thing that grows are the gullies all around.
Tread ye not the dirty rotten Old Spur Line.