Luyện nghe bài hát Wild Billy's Circus Story

The machinist climbs his wheel like a braid
And the fire-eater's in a pool of sweat, victim of the heat wave
Behind the tent, the hired hand his legs on the sword swallower's blade
Circus town's on the

Well, the runway lies ahead like a great false
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 and suffers Missy Bimbo's scorn
Circus town's been

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

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

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

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