Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The sweet pretty are in bed now, of course
The city fathers, they're to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul Revere's
But the town has no need to be

The of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she knits
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 with the tombstone blues

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

Now, the medicine man and he shuffles inside
He walks with a and he says to the bride
"Stop all this weeping, your pride
You not die, it's not poison"

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

Well, John the Baptist, torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero, the
Saying, "Tell me, great hero, but make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get in?"

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

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

The king of the Philistines, his to save
Puts jawbones on tombstones and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and the slaves
Then sends them out to the

Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch, he burns out camps
With his faithful slave Pedro him, he tramps
With a collection of stamps
To win friends and his uncle

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in trouble the tombstone blues

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

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

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

Where Ma and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll
Tuba players now rehearse around the
And the National Bank at a profit sells road for the soul
To the old folks' and the college

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

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