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;
to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone;
Taken by the Church, his soul be slave of God;
In the beauty is his figure something odd.

We see the in Notre Dame
Dancing on the tallest

and spires, filling his heart,
Deep like the choir, like 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 bells in my chime for ever
With the that belongs
To the king of songs
I'm the of Notre Dame

In the Wheel of Life he is a for the crowd,
When will be the time see the sun between the clouds?
Looking at the bells he thinks about his tragic
Wants to be a or metal like his souless mates

We the hunchback in Notre Dame
Crying on the towers

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

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