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 cuffs too
Unfashionable to the end his ale too light

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

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

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

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

And some of them own little cars
And meet at the tennis do's
For on a Sunday, work on Monday
They've 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 rock 'n'
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 Scotch
Just it used to be

And as he flies, in his eyes
His wind-whipped echo the final take
And he hits the trunk road 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, never too old to rock 'n' roll
If you're too to die
[Incomprehensible] never too old to 'n' roll
But he was too to die