Luyện nghe bài hát San Francisco Mabel Joy

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

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

Growing up quietly,
In the of Mabel Joy.
And found their mornings,
It a meaning to his life.
On the before she left,
Sleep came, left that country boy,
With dreams of cotton,
And a wife.

Sunday mornin' 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 neck is red,
But, sonny, still green."

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

mornin' found him lyin' 'neath
The red at her door,
with a bullet in his he cried,
"Have you Mabel Joy?"
and shaken, someone said,
"Son, she live here no more.
No, she left this four years today,
They say looking for some Georgia farm boy."

stylings to end.]