Luyện nghe bài hát Ya Got Trouble

Well, ya got trouble, my friend, here,
I say, trouble here in River City.
Why sure I'm a player,
Certainly proud I say
I'm always mighty to say it.
I consider that the I spend
With a cue in my are golden.
you cultivate horse sense
And a cool and a keen eye.
Did ya ever and try to give
An leave to yourself
From a three-rail shot?
But as I say,
It judgement, brains, and maturity to score
In a line game,
I say that any boob kin
And a ball in a pocket.
And they call sloth.
The first big step on the
To the of deg-ra-Day--
I say, first, wine from a teaspoon,
Then beer a bottle.
An' the thing ya know,
Your son is for money
In a suit.
And list'nin to some big Jasper
Hearin' him tell horse-race gamblin'.
Not a trottin' race, no!
But a race where they set right on the horse!
to see some stuck-up jockey'boy
Sittin' on Dan Make your blood boil?
Well, I say.
Friends, let me tell you I mean.
You got one, two, three, four, five, six in a table.
Pockets that mark the
a gentlemen and a bum,
With a "B,"
And that rhymes with "P" and stands for pool!
And all week long your River
be frittern away,
I say your young be frittern!
Frittern away their noontime, suppertime, too!
Get the in the pocket,
Never gittin' Dandelions pulled
Or the door patched or the beefsteak pounded.
Never pumpin' any water
your parents are caught with the Cistern empty
On a Saturday and that's trouble,
Oh, yes we got and lots a' trouble.
I'm thinkin' of the in the knickerbockers,
Shirt-tail young ones, in the pool
window after school, ya got trouble, folks!
Right here in City.
Trouble with a "T"
And that rhymes with "P" and that for pool!
Now, I all you folks are the right kinda parents.
I'm be perfectly frank.
Would ya like to what kinda conversation goes
On while they're loafin' around Hall?
tryin' out Bevo, tryin' out cubebs,
Tryin' out Mades like Cigarette Fiends!
And all about
How they're gonna cover up a tell-tale breath Sen-Sen.
One night, they leave the pool hall,
Headin' for the at the Arm'ry!
Libertine men and women!
And Rag-time, music
That'll grab your son and your
With the of a jungle animal instinct!
Mass-steria!
Friends, the idle is the devil's playground!

Trouble, oh we got trouble,
Right here in City!
With a "T"
rhymes with "P"
And stands for Pool,
That for pool.
We've got trouble!
Right in River City,
here!
Gotta out a way
To keep the young moral after school!
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...

Mothers of City!
Heed warning before it's too late!
Watch for the sign of corruption!
The minute your son the house,
Does he rebuckle his below the knee?
Is there a stain on his index finger?
A dime novel hidden in the corn
Is he starting to memorize jokes Capt.
Billy's Bang?
Are words creeping into his conversation?
Words like, 'swell?"
And your old man?"
Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
here in River city!
With a "T"
And that rhymes "P"
And stands for Pool.
We've got trouble!
Right in River City!
Remember the Maine, Plymouth and the Golden Rule!
Oh, got trouble.
in terrible, terrible trouble.
That game the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool!
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
With a "T"! Gotta it with "P"!
And that for Pool!!!