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

The old rocker wore his too long
Wore his trouser too tight
Unfashionable to the end drank his ale too

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

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

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

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

And some of own little sports cars
And meet at the club do's
For drinks on a Sunday, on Monday
thrown away their blue suede shoes

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

So the old gets out his bike
To make a ton before he takes his
Up on the A1 by Scotch
Just it used 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
no room left to brake

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