Luyện nghe bài hát Children of Children

Pictures of the before us
Old men in a chorus Sephia
And saddle horses on the reins
Eighty-one a motor in mama's seventeen again
She's at the dusty wind
The of the plains

You and I almost nothing
Pray to God that God was
seventeen old enough to reason with the pain
How could we to stay in love
neither knew the meaning
Of the of sacred and profane

I was on my mother's hip
She was shorter the corn
All the I took from her
Just by born.

Didn't mean to break the
At I went by Michael
No one ever called by my own name
Half generations
Living all these
way to one late to have a baby on the way

You were riding on mother's hip
She was than the corn
All the years you from her
Just by being