Luyện nghe bài hát The Shooting of Dan McGrew

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute
The kid that handles the was hitting a jag-time tune;
of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's as Lou.

out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched for a clue;
But we his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There's men that somehow just grip eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;
And such was he, and he looked to me a man who had lived in hell;
With a most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops one by one.
Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what do,
And I turned my head -- and there watching him was the that's known as Lou.

His eyes went round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze,
at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.
The rag-time kid was having a drink; was no one else on the stool,
So the stranger stumbles the room, and flops down there like a fool.
In a buckskin shirt was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands -- my God! but man could play.

Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you could HEAR;
With only the of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,
A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck gold;
While overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars? --
Then you've a haunch what the music . . . hunger and night and the stars.

And hunger not of the kind, that's banished with bacon and beans,
But the gnawing hunger of men for a home and all that it means;
For a fireside far from the cares that are, four and a roof above;
But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowned with a woman's --
A woman dearer than all the world, and as Heaven is true --
(God! how she looks through her rouge, -- the lady that's known as Lou.)

on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear;
But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it held dear;
That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a lie;
That guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die.
'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it you through and through --
"I guess I'll make it a spread misere," Dangerous Dan McGrew.

The music almost died away . . . then it burst like a pent-up
And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind blood.
The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it like a frozen lash,
And the awoke to kill, to kill . . . then the music stopped with a crash,
And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most way;

In a shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you a damn;
But I to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true,
That one of you is a hound of hell . . . and one is Dan McGrew."

Then I my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark,
And a screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark.
Pitched on his head, and full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,
While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that's as Lou.

These are the facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.
They say that the stranger was with "hooch", and I'm not denying it's so.
I'm not so wise as the guys, but strictly between us two --
The woman that him and -- pinched his poke -- was the lady that's known as Lou.