Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The pretty things are in bed now, of course
The city fathers, they're to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul horse
But the town has no to be nervous

The ghost of Starr, she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently
A wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits
At the head of the Chamber of

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

The hysterical bride in the arcade
Screaming, she moans, "I've just made"
Then sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the
And says, "My advice is to not let the in"

Now, the man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he to the bride
"Stop all weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, not poison"

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

Well, John the Baptist, after a thief
up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me, great hero, but make it brief
Is there a for me to get sick in?"

The Commander-in-Chief him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who whimper and cry"
And, a barbell, he points to the sky
Saying, "The not yellow, it's chicken"

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

The king of the Philistines, his soldiers to
Puts jawbones on their tombstones and their graves
Puts the pied in prison and fattens the slaves
sends them out to the jungle

Gypsy with a blowtorch, he burns out their camps
With his slave Pedro behind him, he tramps
With a fantastic of stamps
To win and influence his uncle

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in trouble with the blues

The of innocence, flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math to get thrown
At Delilah, who's sitting worthlessly
But the tears on her are from laughter

I wish I could give Brother Bill his thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the
Then send out for some and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily after

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's for food
I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone

Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once their bedroll
Tuba now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the
To the old home and the college

Now, I wish I write you a melody so plain
That could hold you, dear lady, going insane
That could you and cool you and cease the pain
Of useless and pointless knowledge

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen with the blues, oh right