Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The sweet pretty things are in bed now, of
The city fathers, they're trying to
The reincarnation of Paul horse
But the town has no need to be

The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently
A wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits
At the head of the of Commerce

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
in the alley, he's lookin' for food
I'm in the with the tombstone blues

The bride in the penny arcade
Screaming, she moans, "I've been made"
sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the shade
And says, "My is to not let the boys in"

Now, the medicine man comes and he inside
He walks with a swagger and he to the bride
"Stop all weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, not poison"

in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's for food
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

Well, the Baptist, after torturing a thief
up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me, great hero, but make it brief
Is a hole for me to get sick in?"

The Commander-in-Chief him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who whimper and cry"
And, a barbell, he points to the sky
Saying, "The not yellow, it's chicken"

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone

The of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their
Puts the pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
sends them out to the jungle

Gypsy Davey a blowtorch, he burns out their camps
With his slave Pedro behind him, he tramps
With a fantastic collection of
To win friends and influence his

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in with the tombstone blues

The geometry of innocence, flesh on the
Causes math book to get thrown
At Delilah, sitting worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks are from

I wish I could give Brother Bill his thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the
send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily after

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen the tombstone blues

Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven unwrapped their bedroll
players now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road for the soul
To the old folks' and the college

Now, I wish I could write you a so plain
That could hold you, dear lady, from insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the
Of your useless and knowledge

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no
Daddy's in the alley, he's for food
I'm in the kitchen the tombstone blues, oh right