Luyện nghe bài hát The Sky Above and the Mud Below

Two men rode in from the south, a rainy autumn
The Sky above and the mud
walked into the Deacon's bar, they were Mexican by sight
The sky and the mud below
They threw a horsehair bridle down, we trade for whiskey rounds
The slams a bottle down, the two men start to drinkin'

Their hair was and black, tied up behind their ears
Their faces identical, like one man beside a mirror
Then someone whispered that beats all, their wanted on the wall
Twin name of Sandoval, horse thieves from Boquillas

Now the bridle and the they wore were braided gray and black
The color of a roan horse once belonged to Black
The fastest horse for around, he'd been stolen from the old fairground
A month ago outside of town we tracked and found him

Now the was a preacher who had fallen hard from grace
He owned the bar and a string of quarter horses he'd race
Yea, Deacon he could drink and curse, though he still sacred verse
He was sheriff, he owned the hearse, a man you did not anger

The sky above, the mud below, the and rain, the sleet and snow
Two horse thieves from drinkin' hard and singin'

One he spoke English, Deac inquires as to their work
The man says mister we braid bridles, ropes and quirts
Yea, that fine bridle we did make, a roan horse killed by leg-bone
He's horsehair rope now; steak, we cleaned him to the bone

Well gentlemen they were ignorant or didn't know just where they were
The Deacon's face grew darker as he measured every
You horsehair braidin' sons o' witches stole my claim to riches
Someone go and dig a ditch, there may be a hangin'

One brother reached inside his searching for his gun
Too late, for had whipped around his sawed off Remington
The twins, they raised hands and sneered, Deac was grinnin' ear to ear
He says court's in session, hear ye hear, yours is presidin'

Well the trial commenced and ended quick didn't have a hope
Deac we'll cut your hair now boys and you can braid yourselves a rope
The Old Testament, it says somewhere eye for eye and hair for
Covet not thy neighbors mare, I believe it's

Now the horsehair bridle, it hangs on Deacon's wall
Next to that wanted poster of the Sandoval
And he twisted rope so shiny black, the artifact that their necks
Their craftsmanship he did respect, they shoulda to braidin'

The sky above the mud below, the wind and rain, the sleet and
The Deacon's hearse is rollin' in the first blue light of mornin'