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

The old wore his hair too long
his trouser cuffs too tight
Unfashionable to the end drank his ale too

Death's head belts buckle, yesterday's
The transport prophet of doom
Ringing no change in his sewn seams
In his babe gloom

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

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

But he's the of the blue blood greasers boys
And all of his mates are doing
Married three kids up by the ring road
Sold their souls straight down the

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

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

So the old gets out his bike
To make a ton before he his leave
Up on the A1 by Scotch
Just like it to be

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

And he was too old to rock 'n'
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 'n' roll
If too young to die
[Incomprehensible] too old to rock 'n' roll
But he was too to die