Luyện nghe bài hát Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands

With mercury mouth in the missionary times
eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross and your voice chimes
Who do think could bury you?

With your pockets protected at last
And your streetcar visions you place on the grass
And your flesh like silk and your face like
Who they get to ever carry you?

Sad lady of the lowlands
Where the sad prophet say that, "No man comes"
My eyes, my Arabian drums
I leave them by your gate?
Or sad eyed lady, I wait?

your sheets like metal and your belt like lace
And your of cards missing the jack and the ace
And basement clothes and your hollow face
Who among them to he could outguess you?

With silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight
And your match-book songs and your hymns
Who them would try to impress you?

Sad eyed lady of the
the sad eyed prophet say that, "No man comes"
My warehouse eyes, my drums
Should I leave by your gate?
Or sad eyed lady, I wait?

The kings of with their convict list
Are in line for their geranium kiss
And you wouldn't know, it would happen this
But who among them wants just to kiss you

With your childhood flames on midnight rug
And Spanish manners and your mother's drugs
And your cowboy and your curfew plugs
Who among them do you think could resist

Sad eyed of the lowlands
Where the sad prophet say that, "No man comes"
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian
Should I leave by your gate?
Or sad lady, should I wait?

he farmers and the businessmen, they all did
To show you the dead angels that they used to
But why did they pick you to sympathize their side?
How they ever mistake you?

They you'd accepted the blame for the farm
But with the sea at your feet and the phony alarm
And with the of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms
How could they ever, ever persuade

Sad lady of the lowlands
Where the sad eyed say that, "No man comes"
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian
Should I leave them by gate?
Or sad eyed lady, I wait?

your sheet metal memory of Cannery Row
And your magazine husband who one day had to go
And your gentleness now which you can't help but show
Who among do you think would employ you?

Now you stand with your thief, you're on his
With your holy medallion in your now that rolls
And your saintlike face and ghostlike soul
Who among them could ever think he destroy you?

Sad eyed lady of the
the sad eyed prophet say that, "No man comes"
My eyes, my Arabian drums
I leave them by your gate?
Or sad eyed lady, I wait?