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;
Damned to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be
Taken by the Church, his soul be slave of God;
In the belfry's beauty is his something odd.

We see the in Notre Dame
Dancing on the towers

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

I am grim, full of
In my dim tomb
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 he is a horror for the crowd,
will be the time he'll see the sun between the clouds?
Looking at the bells he thinks about his fate
Wants to be a rock or metal his souless mates

We hear the hunchback in Notre
Crying on the towers

and columns, his relity;
Chants wich are solemn, his
Is this my cell, is it?
Is God's my hell?
Oh, my body imprisons my poor
i toll!

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