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 in a nearby public lavatory. The night draws in. Nobody would say a word about him, except a fool like me [(and his skin)].

In rainy in the 50's
There a pink farmhouse door
A small Bertie, at digging trenches,
asks, "Daddy, the blowtorch 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 farmers persecute me, but I do for myself. So you."

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

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

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

Now they're at Bertie's brochures
with crowbars and skewers
They see things in brochures:
Their own hatred of all other and their fear

Don't laugh at brochures
He would not if were yours
So if your enemy is there?
Bertie's an artist, so why should he
the north European peasant experience