Luyện nghe bài hát Bells Of Notre Dame

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Born in a sorry cot, on the stairs of the cold stone;
Damned to be scorned, in darkness, to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his soul be slave of God;
In the belfry's beauty is his something odd.

We see the hunchback in Dame
Dancing on the towers

Arcades and spires, his heart,
Deep like the choir, like the art
Is the my cell, is it?
Is God's home my
Oh, my prisions my poor soul,
I toll!

I am grim, of gloom
In my dim tomb
But the in my heart chime for ever
With the ding that
To the king of their
I'm the sound of Notre

In the Wheel of he is a horror for the crowd,
When will be the he'll see the sun between the clouds?
Looking at the he thinks about his tragic fate
Wants to be a rock or like his souless mates

We hear the hunchback in Dame
Crying on the tallest

Gargoyles and columns, his
wich are solemn, his agony
Is place my cell, is it?
Is God's my hell?
Oh, my imprisons my poor soul
i toll!

I am grim, of gloom
In my dim gothic
But the in my heart chime for ever
With the ding belongs
To the king of songs
I'm the sound of Dame