Luyện nghe bài hát 1984

The vans they come in convoys now, stealing through the
Silent in the countryside in the hills up to the
road blocks on the Meden bridge
There's click, click clicking on the
They're sealing off our villages, off our homes
ain't some tin-pot story arriving from a distant shore
But our own sweet, green and land in 1984

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

The servants of our great
Have in the name of us all
While the officers of peace and
Are busy every law
There's hundreds on charges
on the streets
The of our villages
Sown with seeds
And hatred starts to rumble where there was no before
In our own sweet green and land in 1984
Nobody to see the blood
As the blue lights flash through in the
But all the words fell on deaf
And now the blind frustration
Two nations under one crown more and more
In our own sweet green and pleasant land in