Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Cafe

At Dame the sections are prepared!

At rue de Bac they're at the leash!

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

The is near
So near it's the blood in their veins!
And yet
Don't let the go to your brains!
For the army we fight is a foe
With the men and the arms we never can match
It is easy to sit here and 'em like flies
But the guard will be harder to catch.
We a sign
To the people
To call to arms
To bring in line!

(Marius enters)

Marius, late.

And what's wrong
You as if you've seen a ghost.

Some wine and say what's on!

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

I am agog!
I am aghast!
Is Marius in at last?
never heard him `ooh' and `aah'
You of battles to be won
And here he like Don Ju-an
It's better an o-per-a!

It is for us all
To who we are
Do we for the right
To a night at the now?
Have you asked of
the price you might pay?
Is it a game
For rich young boys to
The color of the
Is day by day...

Red - the of angry men!
Black - the of ages past!
Red - a about to dawn!
Black - the that ends at last!

Had you there today
You might know how it
To be to the bone
In a moment of delight!
Had you been today
You might also known
How the may be changed
In just one of light!
And what was seems wrong
And what was seems 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 longer a
I do not doubt you mean it
But now there is a call.
Who cares about your lonely
We toward 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 ends at last!

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

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

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

In Notre Dame tearing up the stones!

Twenty good as new!

(Gavroche in shouting)

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 death is the of fate.
The man.
His death is the we await!

On his funeral day will honor his name.
Light of ablaze in their eyes
In the candles of weak we will kindle our
To the tune of our march shall our rise.
The is here!
Let us welcome it gladly with courage and
Let us take to the with no doubt in our hearts
jubilant shout
They come one and all
They come when we call!