Luyện nghe bài hát Bertie's Brochures

August the 20th: Yes, folks, it's another cold, clammy day in England. A large crowd has 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 fool like me [(and his skin)].

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

look at Bertie's brochures
You'll be enchanted, I am
The whole world's in brochures:
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 night does he do his work
Learning, his brochures...

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

Now they're laughing at brochures
Detectives with and skewers
They see things in Bertie's
Their own hatred of all races and their fear

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