Luyện nghe bài hát Thrupenny Years

That me of the time I felt
time for sin and catholic guilt
Two later to the day
I had to confess
With her a shining shade
Of bus-conductress
Tales of music and
told in grip and groan
But to put these
In like theirs
Of the honest
be no trace
Just lying out

Meanwhile back in wonderland
A sorry sight flowers in hand
Pours his out till his thirst
For college girls is
there with ego
Proudly on
All the time I'm
Well, well, we go
Another perfect of grief
Brings the house to its knees
By dying out

One awful dancer
Steptoe's son a song and of love
When I think of operas
And what makes them so
The answer's in front of my eyes

Here comes our hero in
Strutting to the of
in the Clowns'
Troops his true
When no-one's
And his desk-top
Are the around but
Putting pain to reads
Like a lunge at fame and
Just out loud