Luyện nghe bài hát The Crock Of Gold

We'll live out our on this dirty old street
because we just can't compete
But in the concrete of our days
We our names, our names

Just like the people
When they the distant shore
their drink and their dance
And their dreams and aims

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, all people in our town
Are overworked and broken
Begging cheques but it's just not enough giving

Crying quietly, living life so
That something has to
This worth living

Real is only a time line
And the excitement the short times
It will never measure up to TV sells as great

All the drunken and views
Exciting pubs they the news
But the exciting
Well, just weren't all that great

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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