Luyện nghe bài hát Snapshot 1949 From

A flutters out of a book,
One the photographer took.
Listen...because I can't bear to alone.

I'm on my sweet mother's arm,
up to Grandfather's farm in winter,
Memories warm growing.

Scarecrow coming over the hill, pine,
Hear that whippoorwill, it's 1949.

in jam jars, bare-foot on sandbars,
Chasing a horn-toad a dirt road.

Those hearts, the cold earth graces,
Working men, long hours and faces,
A bright moon, the freight chases home.

Harvest over the land, rise and shine,
For the colors fade on 1949.