Luyện nghe bài hát San Francisco Mabel Joy

Oh, his was an honest man,
Red-dirt, farmer.
His mama lived her 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, farm boy.
Most days he hungry,
Then the came.
He met a girl on the Strip,
As San Mabel Joy.
child,
Born on an L.A. street shame.

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

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

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

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

stylings to end.]