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 hanging on my mother's arm,
Rolling up to farm in winter,
Memories warm growing.

Scarecrow over the hill, rising pine,
that lonesome whippoorwill, it's 1949.

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

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

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