Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

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

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

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

The hysterical in the penny 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 and he shuffles inside
He walks with a and he says to the bride
"Stop all weeping, swallow your pride
You not die, it's not poison"

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

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 while a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would and cry"
And, dropping a barbell, he to the sky
Saying, "The not yellow, it's chicken"

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

The of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on 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
With his faithful slave Pedro him, he tramps
With a fantastic collection of
To win and influence his uncle

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

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

I wish I could give Brother Bill his 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 ever

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

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

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