Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Cafe

At Notre the sections are prepared!

At rue de Bac straining at the leash!

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

The time is
So near it's stirring the blood in veins!
And yet
Don't let the go to your brains!
For the army we is a dangerous foe
the men and the arms that we never can match
It is to sit here and swat 'em like flies
But the national guard 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 look as if you've a ghost.

Some wine and say going on!

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

I am agog!
I am aghast!
Is in love at last?
I've never heard him `ooh' and
You talk of to be won
And here he comes like Don
better than an o-per-a!

It is for us all
To who we are
Do we for the right
To a at the opera now?
Have you of yourselves
What's the price you pay?
Is it a game
For rich boys to play?
The color of the
Is day by day...

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

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

Red...

I my soul 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 mean it
But now is a higher call.
Who cares about lonely soul?
We strive toward a larger
Our little lives don't at all!

ALL
Red - the blood of men!
Black - the of ages past!
Red - a world to dawn!
Black - the that ends at last!

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

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

In St. Antoine with us to a man!

In Dame they're tearing up the stones!

Twenty rifles as new!

(Gavroche in shouting)

Listen!

Twenty for every 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 is the sign we await!

On his funeral day will honor his name.
Light of rebellion ablaze in eyes
In the candles of weak we will our flame
To the tune of our march our barricade rise.
The is here!
Let us welcome it with courage and cheer
Let us to the streets with no doubt in our hearts
With shout
will come one and all
They will come we call!