Luyện nghe bài hát Bells Of Notre Dame

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Born in a sorry cot, left on the stairs of the stone;
Damned to be scorned, in darkness, to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his soul will be slave of
In the beauty is his figure something odd.

We see the in Notre Dame
Dancing on the towers

Arcades and spires, his heart,
Deep like the choir, fine the art
Is the my cell, is it?
Is home my hell?
Oh, my body my poor soul,
I toll!

I am grim, of gloom
In my dim gothic
But the bells in my heart for ever
With the that belongs
To the king of their
I'm the of Notre Dame

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

We hear the hunchback in Notre
on the tallest towers

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

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