Luyện nghe bài hát Wild Flowers In A Mason Jar

January in '55 we rode a Greyhound bus
Through the midnight
Grandpa was sleeping and the sky was clear

We hit a bump and his head back a little
And he mumbled
He woke up smiling but his were bright with tears, he said

I dreamed I was on the farm
Twenty have passed, boy
But the memory warms me
flowers in a mason jar

He me those old stories
that one room cabin in Kentucky
The smell of and the feel of the warm earth in his hands

He slowly turned and stared
His face was in the window
And his flew across the moonlit land

And he he was back on the farm
He tilts his head and listens to the early of morning
Wild flowers in a jar

An old man and an eight old boy
Rolling that midnight highway
Warm Kentucky memories from a winter night

I drifting off and grandpa tucked his coat around me
I think I tried to smile as I slowly closed my
And I I was with him on the farm
Grandpa, I can hear the wind out in the corn
Wild flowers in a jar and the bus rolling through the night