Luyện nghe bài hát Snapshot 1949 From

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

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

Those gentle hearts, the cold graces,
Working men, long and long faces,
A bright moon, the train chases home.

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