Luyện nghe bài hát Air For A Wise Celtic Fool

A with broken wings,
Songbird that will sing.
Cruel nature birth to many things,
That I never understand.
The sky is red, the bleeds,
From screams of death breeds,
Masters ears will hear, but heed,
will never understand.
Men wholl die to their hunger
Men whose greed at paupers anger
do not share an equal blame,
But theyll meet their all the same.
Collier, puddler, blacksmith,
Magistrate or master.
Saints and heroes, and knaves,
All make their journey to a grave.
I the end is almost here,
Our hatred stronger our fear.
Men will soon shed blood, while women their tears;
Still never understand.
Ill stand and I will not run,
But when this day is done-
I am not sure anyone,
ever, ever understand.
Will you ever