Luyện nghe bài hát Tramp

The sun was low and the was cold
On the pale face that was wrinkled and old.

A newspaper coat hanging loose 'round his
And the shoes on his feet, strips of leather up with rope.

His uncombed hair and eyes that stare
At the passing by who didn't know or didn't care.

This poor old man he's all
He's got no or no home of his own
The back street's his kitchen, the his hall
And the chalk on the brick are the pictures on his wall.

And he down his head on the pavement, that's his bed
And when he sleeps, his fade away.

Mmm ...

He walks down the street his hands in his coat
Looking down at his feet for a dog-end he smoke.

He thinks food, good drinking and good fun
As he searches the dustbins, his life almost done.

poor old man he's all alone
He's got no money or no of his own
The street's his kitchen, the footpath's his hall
And the on the brick work are the pictures on his wall.

And he lays down his head on the pavement, his bed
And as he sleeps, his dreams away.