Luyện nghe bài hát Yellow Dirt

He up every morning
And he lights upon the
He to the washroom
And he up the door

The whiskers on his chin him
He's in, and
Through the paste and the
an image without hope

He's a of a fellow
An in parenthesis
So infected with disease of dirt
in his soul

He usually his spare time
Counting upon his arm
The ants upon the
To his thinking add charm

He never to notice
That his are full of lead
He's dead, through cough labored
He is

He's a sandwich of a
An all spread
So infected with disease of dirt
Down in his

Last a thousand stars were his
To like clay, and so
In one split anger
He did reach and take a

He saw himself a way
Off in kissin' situation
would have made his father proud
He out loud

He conceals the hurt, he the dirt
The yellow dirt in his soul
The yellow down in his soul
The yellow dirt down in his
The dirt down in his soul