Luyện nghe bài hát Bertie's Brochures

August the 20th: Yes, folks, it's another cold, clammy day in England. A large crowd has gathered around the police station. Everybody--EVERYBODY--wishes to have contact with a certain little Irish writer within. Not to discuss his works, though the works are known to them; they've been published in the tabloid papers by the police under the heading "Barbaric Butcher's Brochures". No, they want to tear his very head from his body, for what it is alleged he did in the way of mortal damage to two soldiers in a nearby public lavatory. The night draws in. Nobody would say a word about him, except a like me [(and his skin)].

In Ireland in the 50's
outside a pink farmhouse door
A small Bertie, playing at trenches,
asks, "Daddy, what's the for?"
He said, "The torch will cut the cars to them into sculpture
so I can express what I feel. The men may laugh,
the persecute me, but I do for myself. So should you."

Come at Bertie's brochures
You'll be enchanted, I am
The whole world's in Bertie's
All the wisdom, the smiles of friends

Through freakshow Britain, the Eighties
Bertie works in labs, though his father's still endure
though only at does he do his real work
Learning, his brochures...

for he still believes that a poet
and all he has to do is to set it down
and so the milkman,
the waitress and the gunman immortal ART!!

Now they're laughing at Bertie's
Detectives crowbars and skewers
see things in Bertie's brochures:
Their own hatred of all other races and fear

laugh at Bertie's brochures
He not if they were yours
So what if your is there?
an artist, so why should he care?
It's the north peasant experience