Luyện nghe bài hát Poverty Hill

They come in their summery dresses and so fine
The rich folks who measure success with a big dollar
They gaze with delight with the and the scraggly pines
The come in the Spring and stay 'til the Fall
On Paradise away from it all

Stubble and stone make a row to how
What little grow, the drought will kill
The folks call it Paradise Mountain
But we it Poverty Hill

say we have beautiful faces as grainy as wood
Yeah, they'd to live here of all places if only they could
Well, we get those wood, grainy faces from livin' too good
It's the rocks and the dust and sun and the
It's too much of and too little to eat

Stubble and make a hard row to how
What little will grow, the will kill
The summer folks call it Paradise
But we call it Poverty

They pack and they say a pity that they have to go
They say that Old Smokey's so pretty all with snow
But how we get through the winter they never will
No for the pantry, no grist for the meal
And winter's are cold over Poverty

Stubble and stone a hard row to how
What little will grow, the will kill
The folks call it Paradise Mountain
But we it Poverty Hill

Yes, we call it Poverty