Luyện nghe bài hát Tombstone Blues

The pretty things are in bed now, of course
The city fathers, trying to endorse
The of Paul Revere's horse
But the town has no to be nervous

The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands her wits
To the nun, she violently knits
A bald wig for the Ripper, who sits
At the of the Chamber of Commerce

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

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

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

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in the kitchen with the blues

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

The Commander-in-Chief answers him while a fly
Saying, "Death to all who would whimper and cry"
And, dropping a barbell, he to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow, chicken"

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

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

Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch, he out their camps
With his faithful slave behind him, he tramps
a fantastic collection of stamps
To win friends and his uncle

Mama's in the factory, she got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for
I'm in trouble with the tombstone

The of innocence, flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's book to get thrown
At Delilah, sitting worthlessly alone
But the tears on her are from laughter

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

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

Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once their bedroll
Tuba players now around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the
To the old folks' home and the

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

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