Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 a hole for me to get sick in?"

The Commander-in-Chief answers him chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all who would 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
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

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

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

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
in the alley, he's lookin' for food
I'm in trouble with the 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 his great thrill
I would set him in at the top of the hill
Then send out for pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die ever after

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

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

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

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 tombstone blues, oh