Luyện nghe bài hát The Garden Of Allah

It was a pretty big year for
A lousy for rock and roll
The gave their blessings to crimes of passion
It was a dark, dark night of the soul
Now was somewhere out on
By the El Hotel
a stranger appeared in a cloud of smoke
I thought I knew him all too

He said now that I have attention
I got I want to say
You may not want to it
I'm gonna tell it to you
You know, I've liked you, boy
Cause you not afraid of me
But are gonna get mighty rough
in Gomorrah-By-The-Sea

He said it's like home
It's so damned hot, I can't it
My fine seersucker is all soakin' wet

And the hills are
The wind is
And the strikes midnight
In the Garden of
(In the of Allah)

car
I love those Bavarians, so
You know, I a time when things were a lot more
Fun here
When good was good, and was evil
Before got so, fuzzy
Yeah, I was once a boy like you
And I was summoned to the of power in the heavenly court
And I dined with the deities who looked upon me with
For my my creativity
And we sat beneath the in the warm afternoons
And drank the with Fitzgerald and Huxley

And pawned a biting phrase
tongues hot with blood
And drained their pens of ink
Vainly reaching for the bottle of empty Edens
Branded for the ones
Who had with great expectations
To the perfumed of Allah
For their in the sun

We stokin' the fires
And oilin' up the
Until the found out we had ideas of our own

And the war was
The was shaking
And there was no room
In the Garden of
(In the of Allah)

Today I an appearance downtown
I am an witness, because I say I am
And I said, gentleman, and I use that word
I testify for you
I'm a gun for hire, I'm a saint, I'm a
Because are no facts, there is no truth
a data to be manipulated
I can get any result you
it worth to ya?
Because there is no wrong, is no right
And I sleep very well at
No shame, no
No remorse, no
Just selling T-shirts
Just opportunity to participate in the pathetic circus
And winning, winning,

It was a pretty big year for
The marketplace was on a
And the land of
Spawned a whole new breed of men souls
year, notoriety got all confused with fame
And the is downhearted, baby
'Cause there's nothing for him to claim

He said it's like home
so low-down, I can't stand it
I guess my work around has all been done

And the is rotten
The serpent's shine
As he wraps the vine
In the of Allah
(In the of Allah)
(In the of Allah)