Luyện nghe bài hát The Sky Above, The Mud Below

Thomas G. Russell (Frontera Music, ASCAP, Bug Music)

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

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

Now the bridle and the belts they wore were braided and black
The color of a roan horse once belonged to Black
The fastest horse for miles around, been stolen from the old fairground
A ago outside of town we tracked and never found him

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

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

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

Well these gentlemen they were ignorant or didn't know where they were
The face grew darker as he measured every word
You horsehair braidin' sons o witches stole my claim to earthly
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 their 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 somewhere eye for eye and hair for hair
Covet not thy neighbors mare, I believe its

Now the fancy 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 he did respect, they shoulda stuck to braidin'

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