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 of the cold stone;
Damned to be scorned, in darkness, to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his soul will be of God;
In the belfry's is his figure something odd.

We see the hunchback in Dame
on the tallest towers

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

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

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

We the hunchback in Notre Dame
Crying on the tallest

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

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