Luyện nghe bài hát Working Girls

She said she came from
Where the skies and leaden ocean
Left her like the local boys, barren of
As we talked we watched the
Running down the
in Darlinghurst,
Like a fish shop the past.

And her mother called her
Mary Magdalene,
To deny her
Would have been the sin
It was a in the neon and a Kings Cross Doorway lean
To half an hour of someone else's tangled dream.

There lines of sailors, lines of speed
upon the Footpath where she stared
When things were quiet, as night to dawn.
And the coke cups red rover
In the breeze that through the streets
Taxies left for fields
While stretched and yawned

And her mother her Mary
Mary Magdalene,
There were in the morning,
She had sisters in the
And the wives would their husbands
Perhaps shared the shame,
working streets and Weddingrings are sometimes much the same.

She tap-danced the buskers
Near the subway shouting blues
They remembered from their teenage of dreamtime radio.
And the years behind her eyes
To let the little look out
In childish innocence
At in the sand.

And her called her Mary
After Magdalene,
She had long dark and massage oil
And a key to let you in;
And the lines upon her face were of roads she'd travelled,
Lined with throwing stones because they didn't understand,
That a half an hour of (perhaps they shared the same)
'cause working streets and Weddingrings are sometimes the same.