Luyện nghe bài hát Peter The Cabby

Peter's a on Adelaide roads
And in o'clock traffic that's a hard road to hoe
for his family in a Holden with a two-way and meter
And there's no air where he plies his trade
On the green plate stand by the Arcade
Sits and he waits for the privilege of you home

And there's no Mr. in the front of his cab
Just a crackling voice roadmap
And a torch and a biro sliding on the dash
And life's in his hand when they're gripped on the wheel
The water rattles and the Michelins squeal
He's been driving for years it feels like forever

And knows very well your city of
take you from town drop you at Marsden
Peak five minutes, if you think that's easy just try it
He can change a flat tire in three flat
his own car lying flat on his back
Tunes up his motor with a light in his ear

Oh you could be at Woodville, you could be at
Sun may be burning, fog may be
But Peter's still driving all down that endless line
Could be the morning, midday or
He'll sell you a ride, his roof light
Till a operator gives him a job to go home