Luyện nghe bài hát 1984

The vans they come in now, stealing through the dawn
Silent in the in the hills up to the north
There's road on the Meden bridge
There's click, clicking on the phone
They're sealing off our villages, off our homes
This some tin-pot story arriving from a distant shore
But our own sweet, and pleasant 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 anymore
It's in the early mornings, standing with your mates
at the thick blue line armed and ready at the gates
This ain't some tin-pot story arriving from a shore
But our own sweet, green and pleasant land in

The of our great nation
lied in the name of us all
While the of peace and order
Are busy every law
There's hundreds on trumped-up
Hundreds on the
The future of our
Sown with bitter
And hatred starts to rumble where there was no hate
In our own sweet green and pleasant land in
Nobody to see the blood
As the blue flash through in the night
But all the words on deaf ears
And now the frustration bites
Two nations under one crown divided more and
In our own sweet green and pleasant land in