Luyện nghe bài hát Wild Billy's Circus Story

The machinist climbs his Ferris like a braid
And the fire-eater's lyin' in a pool of sweat, victim of the heat
Behind the tent, the hired tightens his legs on the sword swallower's blade
Circus on the shortwave

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

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

A ragged suitcase in his hand, he steals silently away from the grounds
And the highway's haunted by the sounds
They dance like a greasepaint ghost on the wind
A man in pants, a lonely face, a crazy grin
Runnin' to some small Ohio town
Jesus, send some women to save all your clowns

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

And the strong man Samson lifts the midget, little Tim, up on his shoulders, way up
And him on down the midway, past 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 the little boy's ear
"Hey, son, you to try the big top?
All aboard, Nebraska's our stop"