Luyện nghe bài hát Wild Billy's Circus Story

The machinist climbs his Ferris wheel a braid
And the fire-eater's lyin' in a pool of sweat, victim of the wave
Behind the tent, the hired hand tightens his legs on the sword blade
town's on the shortwave

Well, the runway lies ahead like a false dawn
Fat lady, big mama, Bimbo sits in her chair and yawns
And the man-beast lies in his cage sniffin'
And the midget licks his fingers and suffers Missy scorn
Circus town's born

And a press drummer go, ballerina to-and-fro, cartwheelin' up on that tightrope
With a cannon blast, lightnin' flash, movin' through the tent, Mars-bent
He's gonna miss his fall, oh, God save the cannonball
And the flyin' Zambinis Margarita do her neck twist
And the ringmaster gets the to count along: 95, 96, 97

A ragged suitcase in his hand, he steals silently away the circus grounds
And the haunted by the carnival sounds
dance like a great greasepaint ghost on the wind
A man in pants, a lonely face, a crazy grin
Runnin' home to some small town
Jesus, send some sweet women to save all clowns

And Circus Boy dances like a monkey on wire
And the barker romances with a junkie, got a flat tire
And now the elephants dance real funky and the band plays like a fire
Circus town's on the live

And the strong man Samson lifts the midget, little Tim, up on his shoulders, way up
And carries him on down the midway, past the kids, the sailors, to his dimly lit trailer
And the Ferris wheel turns and like it ain't ever gonna stop
And the circus boss leans and whispers into the little boy's ear
"Hey, son, you to try the big top?
All aboard, our next stop"