Luyện nghe bài hát Song for Bob Dylan

Oh, hear this Robert
I wrote a for you
About a young man called Dylan
With a like sand and glue
Some words had vengeance
That could pin us to the
a few more people on
And put the fear in a lot more

Ah, here she
Here she comes, here she again
The same old lady
From the of the superbrain
scratch this world to pieces
As she comes on like a
Couple of songs your old scrapbook
Could send her again

your heart to every bedsit room, at least a
Picture on my
And you sat behind a million of eyes
And told them how saw
Then we lost train of thought
Your paintings are all own
troubles are rising, we'd rather be scared
Together alone

Ah, here she
Here she comes, she comes again
The same old lady
the brow of the superbrain
She'll scratch this world to
As she comes on a friend
But a of songs from your old scrapbook
Could her home again

Now hear this, Zimmerman
I don't suppose we'll meet
Ask your good friend
If he'd gaze a down the old street
him we've lost his poems
So writing on the walls
Give us back our
Give us back our
every nation's refugee
Don't us with their sanity

Ah, she comes
Here she comes, she comes again
The old painted lady
the brow of the superbrain
She'll scratch this world to
As she comes on a friend
But a couple of songs your old scrapbook
Could her home again

Ah, of songs from your old scrapbook
send her home again
Oh, here she
she comes, and here she comes