Luyện nghe bài hát The Little Lady Preacher

Oh, the little preacher from the limestone church
I'll forget her, I guess
She preached each Sunday on the local radio
With a big black and a snow-white dress

She was nineteen years of age and was developed to a
But I admit she knew the Bible well
A little white lace marked the text that she would use
She'd breathe into that and send us all to hell

She had a picker by the name of Luther Short
A hairy-legged soul, out in sin
She would turn and smile at Luther when the program would
a voice as sweet as angels she would break out in a hymn

I was pickin' for her too with what we call the doghouse
I clung to every word that passed her
She was down on booze and cigarettes and high on to come
And she'd punctuate the prophecy with movements of her

The Lord, how I loved her, He was there each time she preached
But ol' Luther took her home each morn'
Lookin' back I still recall the way it my tender pride
I longed to be a hero but they're not born

Sometimes ol' showed up at the studio half-tight
And was a thing he liked to do
She never said a to him but said a prayer for me
I her in a way that I'd been prayin' for her too

One Sunday her old man showed up and said that she was
Said she and brother Luther had a
I can see me standin' in that that day
I had to the heartbreak, unemployment and all

I don't know where they are, 'cause I ain't seen people since
Lord, if I 'em let me give 'em lots o' room
I know ol' Short and he's a hard ol' boy to change
And I've often sat and who it was converted whom