Luyện nghe bài hát 3rd Impression

Man alone, born of
Will stamp the dust of
His hands strike the flame of his
a rope to a tree and hangs the universe
Until the of laughter blows cold.

Fear that rattles in ears
And it's hideous head
Dread .... death in the

Man of steel pray and
With fever's torch
Thrust in the face of the
a blade if compassion
Kissed by countless
Whose jewelled trumpet words his sight.
that no man thought would fall
The altars of the
Crushed .... dust in the

No man yields who flies in my
Danger!
Let the bridge computer
Stranger!
Load program. I am yourself.

No stands in my way
Only blood can cancel my
Guardians of a new clear
Let the of war be drawn.

Rejoice! is ours!
Our young men have not in vain,
Their graves no flowers
The have recorded their names.

I am all is
Negative! Primitive! Limited! I let you live!
But I you life
What else you do?
To do was right
I'm perfect! Are