Luyện nghe bài hát San Francisco Mabel Joy

Oh, his daddy was an man,
Red-dirt, farmer.
His lived her short life,
Havin' kids and hay.
He had years,
And an inside to wander,
Hopped a in Waycross,
up in L.A.

Oh, the cold had no pity,
On that Waycross, Georgia boy.
Most he went hungry,
the summer came.
He met a girl on the Strip,
As San Francisco Joy.
child,
Born on an L.A. street shame.

up came quietly,
In the of Mabel Joy.
And laughter their mornings,
It brought a to his life.
On the night she left,
Sleep came, left that Waycross boy,
With dreams of cotton,
And a wife.

Sunday found him standin' 'neath,
The red at her door.
When a right sent him reelin',
Put him down on the floor.
Lord, in place of Joy he found.
A man marine.
who growled, "Your Georgia is red,
But, sonny, still green."

He twenty-one,
In a Gray federal prison.
Ol' had no mercy,
On Waycross, Georgia boy.
at those four gray walls,
In he would listen,
To midnight freight,
He could take him back to Mabel Joy.

Sunday mornin' him lyin' 'neath
The red at her door,
with a in his side he cried,
"Have you seen Joy?"
Stunned and shaken, said,
"Son, she don't here no more.
No, she this house four years today,
They say looking for some Georgia farm boy."

stylings to end.]