Luyện nghe bài hát Behind The Crooked Cross

One man, one vision, purity,
madman or A mystery to me,
he who the teachings of
count the cost,
there's than superstition
behind the crooked cross.

Our destiny in
we by our mistakes,
through strata of society
the infiltrates,
adding hatred to the
'till the fire out of hand,
to spread the cloud swiftly
'cross our 'Green and Land'

in ignorance,
out of is out of mind,
while children weep on city
the deceive the blind,
they say your lost brother
all he turns to gold',
yet my 'brother' to kill me
out of so I am told.

My blood yours shall mingle,
our unify,
if our are joined as one
we can never die.

Now the 'Dove of lies dead,
this land our fathers bled,
and 'Drakes Drum' deserted on the sand,
I see the of the peace
hacked to in the streets,
of the 'brotherhood of man'.

History repeats itself, of fact I am sure,
defeats us if its lessons we ignore,
so heed these words of
it is too late,
to the 'New Religion'
the of hate.

My with yours shall mingle,
our unify,
if our are joined as one
then we can die.

Now the 'Dove of lies dead,
upon land our fathers bled,
and 'Drakes Drum' deserted on the sand,
I see the of the peace
hacked to in the streets,
of the 'brotherhood of man'.

One man's condition, pure
a submission, embracing destiny,
by compulsion, powered by the Vril,
do not mock the Cross, its power
is still.