Luyện nghe bài hát The Hole In The Map

THE IN THE MAP

Music, Russell Ferrante/Lyrics, Lorraine

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

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

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

There are bugs thatll kill you with a bite,
your cotton britches to threads in a night,
Homicidal gnats no than seeds,
millipedes.
Still you you love it and you wont be swayed
Though you never are unafraid.
Hits heart like a thunderclap,
So dont fall
The in the map

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

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

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