Luyện nghe bài hát Working Girls

She said she came Portland
Where the ashen skies and ocean
Left her like the boys, barren of emotion
As we talked we the raindrops
Running the window
in Darlinghurst,
Like a shop from the past.

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

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

And her called her Mary
After Magdalene,
There were in the morning,
She had in the pain;
And the wives would clutch husbands
they shared the shame,
'cause working and Weddingrings are sometimes much the same.

She with the buskers
Near the subway shouting songs
They remembered from their years of dreamtime radio.
And the withdrew behind her eyes
To let the little girl out
In simple innocence
At in the sand.

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