Luyện nghe bài hát On The Streets I Ran

Ooh, a working-class face back
At me from the and lurches, oh
me, on the street's I ran
Turned into, popular song

of wet black holes
On roads you can never
You never have
But, they always you
'Till the day you croak, it's no joke

Ooh, a working-class glares back
At me the glass and lurches, oh
Forgive me, on the I ran
sickness into unpopular song

And all street's can do
Is to know the real you
And warn if you don't
You will kill or be killed isn't very nice

Here friendly
But friends
Oh, dear God will I
Be I should be?

And when the palmist
"One you will be dead"
I said, "No, not me, this be
Dear God, him, take them, take anyone

The stillborn, the
The infirmed, take
people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Just me"