Luyện nghe bài hát Tain, Pts1 - 5

I]

[crone:] here upon this
made of and willow
you're a fickle twister
are you on your sister?
your won't leave you alone.

and granted for pleasure
possesions to measure
she's a salty little
with your cock in her
but now a will of her own.

II]

[husband:] damn your ankles and wide
from you to your ponytails too.
of the insects and the m-5
over in a motorcade too.

and baby a new prize
needs a new and shiny prize.

[captain:] in place called heavenly
you were here.
this called heavenly
you were here.
you born here.

[husband:] and now all the marchers descend from
i will dedicate all of my to this.

and damn all the angles that my sight
i bleed your heart through a samovar soon.

[captain:] in this called heavenly
you were here.
this place called
you born here.
you born here.

III]

[soldier:] they settled dust in your
to watch you shake and it out.
with our bared
we shed our bags and alls.

from the lee of the
he in the chang and the chariot
and all his eunuchs in
can scarce lift his and lariat.

here com loose his
to me down.

[chorus of waifs:] me down.

on this stretch of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

[chaplain:] and now with pangs
that tear at our backs thistle down
the mirror's soft tain
reflects our and birthing hour

[soldier:] here com his hounds
to me down.

of waifs:] blow me down.

[soldier:] on stretch of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV]

[widow:] o the wind is blowing, it hurts skin
as you up hillside, forest and fen.

your full of lullabies, orchids and wine
your memories wrapped paper and twine.

the room you lie in is dusty and hard
sleeping soft on piles of yards
of gingham, taffeta, and silk
your dry hungry cry for your mother's milk.

when the dawn to greet you, you'll rise with clothes on
and advance the others, singing old songs
of cattle and and withered old queens.
let the carry you on.

the room that you lie in is and hard
soft babies on piles of yards
of gingham, taffeta, and silk
dry hungry mouths cry for your mother's milk.

V]

[woman:] dear what have you done?
your clothes are town, make-up runs.

[daughter:] i ran through brambles, thistle
i washed my face in the when you whistled me on.

[woman:] darling dear, what hav done?
hands and face are smeared with blood.

[daughter:] the chaplain came and me out
to beat and to his mother's sow

[woman:] but dear, they found him dead
morning on the riverbed.

but now darling, don't you cry.
your reward's in the sweet -by.
hush now baby, you cry.
reward's in the sweet by-and-by.

[crone:] and now we've your powers
softly the hours
you're a fickle twister
are you on your sister?
as now you go home.