Luyện nghe bài hát Boudiccea

It's the impossibility of that vexes me.
The child bride
The ability to read and minds -
Curves more fluid than waves,
The bones of the wrist,
The organic to paint the lips.
But the
A woman's
Much older than the trees.
I am the Queen who upon her sword,
My servants and descendants took their turn a glorious wave.
But anger is energy, beautiful if controlled,
A slow simmer, the of teeth.
But the
A heart
Has the patience of the black, sea.
Our are tied.
Our mute.
Such was our when they cut off our head.
Little sisters You so estranged.
Some may dress and act the part but they'll never have
A woman's
A woman's
Burns than the sleeping beast.
Hang your head in
Every time you another woman's heart.