Luyện nghe bài hát The Crock Of Gold

We'll live out our lives on this dirty old
Only because we can't compete
But in the concrete of our younger
We our names, our names

like the people before
When they reached the distant
With their and their dance
And their dreams and sincere

All ghosts long gone, through old buildings stare
With their offspring staring at me for they are there
that are dead and lives not realized

Well, why did we write our
In these streets to show alive?
Alive, alive, alive,

Well, is my home and I'll never went to Roam
To live on any sun distant shore
Well, it is that I was by forbearer's so revered
And I the songs that they all sang before

Well, any woman that's me
Has repelled most thoroughly
I'm a lover, God, I am foremost of all

A that's my call
Of high degree
But I'm that they do not know my trade at all

Well, if every twenty years
Some small relief to me
Then the crock of gold will wait

Until day to defend myself no more
Lay the of anger at my door
And the sword of will stow away

Well, all young in our town
Are overworked and down
Begging cheques but it's not enough they're giving

quietly, living life so desperately
That has to make
life worth living

Real life is only a line
And the excitement holds the short
It will never measure up to what TV as great

All the drunken jokes and
Exciting they tell the news
But the exciting
Well, they just weren't all great

Well, if it's twenty years
small relief to me appears
Then the crock of gold will

Until that day to defend no more
Lay the shield of anger at my
And the sword of will stow away, go

Well, I met a girl one
And enchantment our sight
So we decided we would it for awhile

But she not love me
So me finally, I said, "It's not your fault
But I would love if only for a while"

Well, it's on and on I've
Yeah, that's how it's always
And how it be as ever on I go

Oh, but ever on I
all the banal times until
Well, I find place
To me that like home

Well, and if it's twenty years
Some small to me appears
Then the of gold will wait

Until day to defend myself no more
Lay the shield of at my door
And the of alcohol will stow away

Well, and if every twenty years
Some small to me appears
Then the crock of gold will

that day to defend myself no more
Lay the shield of anger at my
And the sword of alcohol will stow