Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I her name on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish figure
her tongue tied to a trigger,
She seemed a killer
Her all filled with filler,
Her a painting palette
I all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly a judge
But left her traces on her mug.
We each other closely
She looks like lugosi,
She asked me for a home
I felt for my comb,
And in the bar mirror
I combed through her figure,
She through the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat herself me in my van
A ring on every of her hand.

She down by the river
A flat the council her,
Wallpaper scenic
Her outlook beatnik,
We watched the and weather
through the door he entered,
Short and arms of iron
And me just my tie on,
She said the used to this by now
I'd all the bull but not the cow.

Behind her velvet
I found back sober,
She an old acoustic
She never ever it,
A for me with a capo
A six string an f-hole,
We made the couple
A and hardy double,
I learnt to play her favourite songs
With one or two chords going wrong