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Lyrkit coq

Bonjour! Je m'appelle Lirkit !

J'ai essayé de nombreuses façons de mémoriser des mots anglais et j'ai trouvé la plus efficace pour moi !

Nous avons déjà en mémoire toutes les paroles des chansons que nous avons entendues tout au long de notre vie. Nous n’y avons tout simplement pas prêté attention, mais nous les entendons tous déjà !

J'ai remarqué que lorsque vous apprenez un nouveau mot d'une chanson que vous avez déjà entendu auparavant, vous connaissez déjà la traduction de ce mot pour toujours et vous ne l'oublierez jamais !

Je souhaite partager cette méthode avec vous. Le schéma est donc le suivant.

On retrouve des chansons que l'on a déjà entendues.

Nous y ajoutons tous les mots inconnus.

Nous passons des mini tests de jeux de mémoire. fait

Maintenant que vous connaissez beaucoup de mots, vous connaîtrez très vite toute la langue !

Je parie que vous serez surpris de l'efficacité de cette méthode !)

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David Allan Coe

Daddy Was A God Fearin' Man

 

Daddy Was A God Fearin' Man

(album: Tattoo - 1977)


[spoken]
Used to go with my grandpa up to the town square, set him down up there on a picnic bench and he used to play checkers with them other old men up there. they used to tell stories bout when they were kids. grandpa says he shot the chief of police when he was nine years old. n' i believe him, cause they tell me that hazard, kentucky's the baldest place in the world. why, they say they used to sit out there on there front porch, shoot then revenuers when they'd come down the hollow. said they was so young, took two o' them boys to hold the rifle and one to pull the trigger, hymn! well, grandpa , he'd lie a little bit, but i'll tell you, there's a lot of stories in harlan county.

Yea, folks in harlan county, lord, they knew that we were poor
They always called my daddy preacher dan
But daddy weren't no preacher, least ways i don't recollect
Never hear of poppa talk of nothing' but the land

And daddy was a god fearing' farmer yes he was
Could not read nor write, lord, he could barley spell his name
Daddy was a god fearing' farmer all his life
Someday when I'm grown ill be the same.

Well he always grew tobacco though he did not smoke himself
He had the best tobacco crop around
And he never touched a drop of liquor that I can recall
Papa made his living' on the ground.

Yes sunday-go-to-meeting' called for more than he could stand
I guess he felt at home in his old clothes
But he never missed a sunday taking momma to the church
Maybe it was habit, lords, but heaven only knows
Yea, folks in harlan county, lord, they knew that we were poor
They always called my daddy preacher dan
But daddy weren't no preacher, least ways I don't recollect
Never hear of grandpa talk of nothing' but the land

fait

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