Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Café/Red and Black

Enjolras! At Notre the sections are prepared!

At rue de Bac they're at the leash!

Students, workers,
a river on the run
Like the flowing of the
Paris to our side!

The is near
So near stirring the blood in their veins!
And yet
Don't let the go to your brains!
For the army we is a dangerous foe
With the men and the arms that we can match
It is easy to sit and swat 'em like flies
But the national will be harder to catch.
We a sign
To rally the
To them to arms
To them in line!

Marius, late.

What's wrong
You as if you've seen a ghost

Some wine and say what's on!

A ghost you say... a ghost
She was like a ghost to me
One there then she was gone!

I am agog!
I am aghast!
Is in love at last?
I've heard him `ooh' and `aah'
You talk of to be won
And here he comes Don Juan
It is than an opera!

It is for us all
To who we are
Do we fight for the
To a night at the now?
you asked of yourselves
What's the price you might
Is it a game for rich young boys to play?
The of the world
Are day by day...

Red - the of angry men!
Black - the dark of past!
Red - a world to dawn!
Black - the night ends at last!

Had you been there
You might know how it
To be struck to the
In a of breathless delight
Had you there tonight
You also have known
How the world may be
In just one burst of
And what was right wrong
And what was wrong right!

Red!

I feel my on fire!

Black!

My if she's not there!

ALL
Red!

The of desire!

ALL
Black!

The of despair!

Marius, you're no a child
I do not doubt you it well
But now there is a call.
Who cares about lonely soul?
We strive a larger goal
Our little lives count at all!

ALL
Red - the blood of men!
Black - the dark of past!
Red - a about to dawn!
Black - the night that at last!

Well, Courfeyrac, do we all the guns?
Feuilly, Combeferre, our time is short.
Grantaire, put the down!
Do we have the we need?

Give me brandy on my
And I'll them all to death!

In St. Antoine they're us to a man!

In Dame they're tearing up the stones!

Twenty rifles as new!

Listen!

Twenty rounds for man!

to me!

JEAN
that in Port St. Cloud!

everybody!

Seven in St. Martin!

General is dead!

is dead.
Lamarque! His is the hour of fate.
The man.
His is the sign we await!

On his funeral day they will his name.
It's a cry that will reach every ear!
In the death of Lamarque we will kindle the
will see that the day of salvation is near!
The is near!
Let us welcome it gladly with and cheer
Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our
But a shout
will come one and all
They will when we call!