Luyện nghe bài hát Bells Of Notre Dame

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Born in a cot, left on the stairs of the cold stone;
to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his will be slave of God;
In the belfry's beauty is his figure odd.

We see the hunchback in Notre
on the tallest towers

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

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

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

We hear the hunchback in Dame
on the tallest towers

Gargoyles and columns, his
Chants wich are solemn, his
Is place my cell, is it?
Is home my hell?
Oh, my body imprisons my poor
i toll!

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