Luyện nghe bài hát The Face On The Barroom Floor

Recorded by Hank
Author - Hugh Antoine

'Twas a balmy summer evening and a crowd was there
well-nigh filled Joe's barroom on the corner of the square
And as songs and witty stories came through the open
A vagabond slowly in and posed upon the floor.
"Where did it come from?" said. "The wind has blown it in?"
"What does it want?" cried, "Some whiskey, rum or gin?"
"Here, Toby, seek him, if your stomach's to the work!"
"I wouldn't touch him with a fork, why, as filthy as a Turk."
This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical grace
In fact, he smiled as though he thought he'd the proper place
"Come, boys, I know there's hearts among so good a crowd
Why, to be in such good would make a deacon proud."
"Give me a - that's what I want - I'm out of funds, you know
I had cash to treat the gang, this hand was never slow
What? You laugh as tho' you thought pocket never held a sou
Why, I was as well, my boys, as anyone of you."
"There, thanks - that's me nicely - God bless you one and all
Next time I pass this good saloon, I'll make call
Give you a song? No, I can't do that - my singing are past
My voice is and my throat's worn out and my lungs are going fast.
"Say, Give me whiskey and I'll tell you what I'll do
I'll tell you a story and a fact I promise, too
That I was ever a decent man, not a one of you would
But, I was some four of five back - say, give us another drink.
"Fill her up, Joe, I to put some life into my frame
Such little drinks, to a bum like me, are miserably
Five fingers - there, the scheme - and corkin' whisky, too
Well, here's luck, and landlord, my best regards to you.
"You've treated me pretty kindly and I'd to tell you how
I to be the dirty sot you see before you now
As I told you once, I was a man a muscle, frame and health
And, but for a blunder, to have made considerable wealth.
"I was a painter - not one that on bricks and wood
But an and for my age, was rated pretty good
I worked hard at my and I was bidding fair to rise
'Coz gradually I saw the of fame before my eyes.
"I made a picture perhaps you've seen, 'tis called the OF FAME'
It brought me fifteen hundred pounds and added to my
And then I met a woman - now the funny part
With eyes that my brain and sunk into my heart.
"Why you laugh? it's funny that the vagabond you see
Could ever love a woman and expect her for me
But 'twas so, and for a month or two, her smiles were freely
And when her lips touched mine it carried me to heaven.
"Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom soul you'd give
With a form the Milo Venus, too beautiful to live
With eyes like the of diamonds and a wealth of chestnut hair?
If so, 'twas she, for there never was another so fair.
"I was working on a portrait one in May
Of a fair-haired boy, a of mine, who lived across the way
And admired it and much to my surprise
Said like to know the man that had such dreamy eyes.
"It didn't take long to him and before the month had flown
My friend had stole my and I was left alone
And ere a year of had passed above my head
The jewel that I had so, had tarnished and was dead.
"That's why I took to drink, boys - why, I saw you smile
I thought you'd be amused and all the while
Why, what's the matter - There's a teardrop in your eye
Come, laugh me; why 'tis only babes and women that would cry.
"Say, boys, if you'd give me just whiskey, I'll really be glad
And I'll draw right a picture of the face that drove me mad
Give me piece of chalk with which you mark the baseball score
And you shall see the lovely upon the barroom floor."
Another drink and chalk in hand the vagabond began
To sketch a face that might buy the soul of any man
And then as he placed another lock upon the shapely
With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell the picture - dead.