Luyện nghe bài hát The Ropin' Pen

Every Friday afternoon, I hitch up the
up ol' rock an' ice down the cooler
Drive that back until it ends
At the Pen

There's rusted out pick-ups an' fancy
Twenty-thousand horses then there's my ol' stag
But we're all the same the we ride in
To the Pen

Well, I no Clayo Speed
But I give her
Hell, you can tell
Some day I might be

turn a few steers an' tell a few lies
Kick back in the saddle an'
Most of problems, we can prob'ly solve 'em
In the Pen

We do it for the money, Hell, we're always broke
Just ask my ol' Nathan what he'd pay to rope
He lost a couple of wives, the fingers on his hands
To the Pen

An' it takes a little skill an' a luck
An' you can smack if you can back it up
Ah, but all friends, no matter who wins
at the Ropin' Pen

Well, I ain't no Clayo
But I her Hell
Hell, you can tell
Some day I might be

We'll another pit of steers an' tell a few more lies
Drink beer and hypothesize
Most of problems, Hell, we're gonna solve 'em
In the Pen

See again, next weekend
at the Ropin' Pen
At the Pen
at the Ropin' Pen
In the Pen