Luyện nghe bài hát 1984

The vans they in convoys now, stealing through the dawn
Silent in the countryside in the up to the north
There's road blocks on the bridge
There's click, click on the phone
They're sealing off our villages, off our homes
This ain't tin-pot story arriving from a distant shore
But our own sweet, green and pleasant land in

Her father crossed the battle in the first months of the war
She frowns at the soup kitchen - she doesn't have a father anymore
It's in the early mornings, standing with your mates
Staring at the thick blue line armed and at the gates
This ain't some story arriving from a distant shore
But our own sweet, green and pleasant in 1984

The servants of our nation
Have lied in the of us all
While the of peace and order
Are breaking every law
There's on trumped-up charges
Hundreds on the
The of our villages
with bitter seeds
And hatred starts to rumble where was no hate before
In our own sweet green and pleasant land in
wanted to see the blood
As the blue lights through in the night
But all the fell on deaf ears
And now the frustration bites
Two nations under one crown more and more
In our own sweet green and pleasant land in