Luyện nghe bài hát Too Old To Rock 'N' Roll: Too Young To Die (Edited Version)

The old rocker wore his hair too
Wore his trouser too tight
Unfashionable to the end his ale too light

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

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

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

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

And some of them own little sports
And meet at the tennis do's
For on a Sunday, work on Monday
They've thrown away blue suede shoes

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

So the old rocker out his bike
To make a ton before he 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 trunk doing around a 120
With no room left to

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

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