Luyện nghe bài hát The Hole In The Map

THE IN THE MAP

Music, Russell Ferrante/Lyrics, Lorraine

below the Equator,
Beneath a sun
a counterfeit paradise
And oblivion,
Or so told our hero,
In 1925,
As he back to the river
That ate so alive.

It starts as a trickle in the and snow,
With more than an still to go.
Steamrollers the sea,
as New York City.
Passable only in the of the heat,
In the winter it 40 feet.
The green hell is a trap,
So fall down
The in the map.

Youd bet such a forest feed you,
You would that bet.
You thought you learned about
As a cadet!
The pranks, the floggings,
bliss compared to this,
As you hack the lianas
Where boas hiss.

are bugs thatll kill you with a single bite,
Turn cotton britches to threads in a night,
Homicidal gnats no bigger seeds,
millipedes.
Still you know you love it and you wont be
Though you never are unafraid.
Hits your like a thunderclap,
So fall down
The in the map

in the comfort of Devon,
You sweeten your tea and
Free now to till eleven,
And the old world go by.
You smile at your heaven,
And say at last, youll stay,
But by the gates
The Amazon
To quietly you away.
you away,

to the river.
Its only in the worst of the heat,
In the it rises 40 feet.
The green hell is a trap.
fall .

There are bugs thatll kill you with a bite,
Turn cotton britches to threads in a night,
Homicidal no bigger than seeds,
millipedes.