Luyện nghe bài hát Behind The Crooked Cross

One man, one vision, purity,
madman or magician? A to me,
he who the teachings of
Blavatsky the cost,
there's than superstition
hides the crooked cross.

Our in prophecy
we by our mistakes,
through each strata of
the infiltrates,
adding hatred to the
'till the burns out of hand,
to spread the dark swiftly
our 'Green and Pleasant Land'

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

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

Now the 'Dove of lies dead,
upon this our fathers bled,
and Drum' lies deserted on the sand,
I see the of the peace
to pieces in the streets,
victims of the of man'.

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

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

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

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