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 ghost of Belle Starr, she down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently
A bald wig for Jack the Ripper, who
At the of the Chamber of Commerce

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

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

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

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

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 hole for me to get in?"

The Commander-in-Chief answers him 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"

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

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

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

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

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

I wish I give Brother Bill his great thrill
I set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then 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 for food
I'm in the kitchen the tombstone blues

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

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

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