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,
mighty proud I say
I'm always proud to say it.
I consider the hours I spend
With a cue in my are golden.
Help you cultivate horse
And a head and a keen eye.
Did ya take and try to give
An leave to yourself
From a billiard shot?
But as I say,
It judgement, brains, and maturity to score
In a baulk game,
I say that any boob kin
And a ball in a pocket.
And they that sloth.
The first big step on the
To the depths of
I say, first, medicinal from a teaspoon,
Then from a bottle.
An' the thing ya know,
Your son is for money
In a suit.
And list'nin to big out-a-town Jasper
Hearin' him tell about gamblin'.
Not a trottin' race, no!
But a race where set down right on the horse!
Like to see stuck-up jockey'boy
on Dan Patch? 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 young men'll be frittern!
Frittern their noontime, suppertime, choretime too!
Get the in the pocket,
mind gittin' Dandelions pulled
Or the screen door or the beefsteak pounded.
Never mind any water
'Til your parents are caught with the 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 ones, peekin' in the pool
Hall window school, ya got trouble, folks!
Right in River City.
Trouble with a "T"
And that rhymes with "P" and that for pool!
Now, I know all you folks are the right parents.
I'm be perfectly frank.
Would ya like to know what kinda goes
On while they're loafin' around that
They're out Bevo, tryin' out cubebs,
out Tailor Mades like Cigarette Fiends!
And braggin' all
How gonna cover up a tell-tale breath with Sen-Sen.
One fine night, leave the pool hall,
for the dance at the Arm'ry!
Libertine men and women!
And Rag-time, shameless
That'll grab your son and your
the arms of a jungle animal instinct!
Mass-steria!
Friends, the idle is the devil's playground!

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

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