Luyện nghe bài hát The Crock Of Gold

We'll live out our lives on this dirty old
Only because we just compete
But in the concrete of our days
We left our names, our

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

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

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

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

Well, any woman neared me
Has repelled most thoroughly
Still I'm a lover, God, I am of all

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

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

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

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

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

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

All the drunken and views
Exciting they tell the news
But the pats
Well, they weren't all that great

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

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

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

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

Well, it's on and on seen
Yeah, how it's always been
And how it will be as on I go

Oh, but on I will
Through all the banal until
Well, I some place
To me that seems home

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

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

Well, and if it's every years
Some relief to me appears
Then the crock of gold wait

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