Luyện nghe bài hát Too Old To Rock 'n' Roll: Too Young To Die

The old wore his hair too long
Wore his trouser cuffs too
Unfashionable to the end his ale too light

Death's head belts buckle, dreams
The transport caf' of doom
no change in his double sewn seams
In his post-war gloom

Now he's too old to 'n' roll
But he's too to die
Yes, too old to rock 'n' roll
But too young to die

He once owned a Davidson
And a Bonneville
his friends in burned out spark plugs
And prays that he always

But the last of the blue blood greasers boys
And all of his are doing time
Married with three kids up by the ring
Sold their souls down the line

And some of them own little cars
And meet at the tennis club
For drinks on a Sunday, on Monday
They've thrown away blue suede shoes

Now they're too old to 'n' roll
And too young to die
And too old to rock 'n' roll
And they're too to die

So the old gets out his bike
To make a ton he takes his leave
Up on the A1 by Corner
Just it used to be

And as he flies, in his eyes
His words echo the final take
And he hits the road doing around a 120
With no left to brake

And he was too old to 'n' roll
But he was too to die
He was too old to 'n' roll
And he was too to die

No, you're never too old to rock 'n'
If you're too to die
No, you're never too old to rock 'n'
But he was too to die