Luyện nghe bài hát F - Hole

(difford/tilbrook)

I her name on a bar mat
She had a bonnet,
But a youngish figure
With her tongue to a trigger,
She seemed a killer
Her face all with filler,
Her face a painting
I all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly a judge
But left her lipstick on her mug.
We watched each closely
She like bela lugosi,
She asked me for a home
I around for my comb,
And in the bar room
I combed through her figure,
She wiggled the car park
the pit of my heart,
Sat herself me in my van
A ring on every of her hand.

She lived down by the
A flat the council her,
very scenic
Her outlook beatnik,
We watched the close and
through the door he entered,
Short and arms of iron
And me just my tie on,
She the lodger's used to this by now
I'd handled all the but not the cow.

her velvet sofa
I found myself sober,
She an old acoustic
She ever used it,
A gift for me with a
A six with an f-hole,
We the strangest couple
A and hardy double,
I learnt to play her favourite country
one or two chords always going wrong