Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

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

The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her
To Jezebel the nun, she violently
A bald wig for the Ripper, who sits
At the head of the of Commerce

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

The hysterical bride in the penny
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 a swagger and he says to the bride
"Stop all this weeping, swallow your
You will not die, not poison"

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

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

The Commander-in-Chief answers him chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who 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, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen the tombstone blues

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

Gypsy Davey a blowtorch, he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro behind him, he
With a fantastic collection of
To win friends and his uncle

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

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

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

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

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

Now, I wish I could write you a so plain
That could hold you, lady, from 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 for food
I'm in the with the tombstone blues, oh right