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 cold
to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his will be slave of God;
In the beauty 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 prisions my poor soul,
I toll!

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

In the Wheel of Life he is a 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
wich are solemn, his agony
Is this my cell, is it?
Is home my hell?
Oh, my body my poor soul
i toll!

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