Luyện nghe bài hát Children Of The Harvest

Seems we are to our final days
Far the dwellings of men
As flowing and shifting sands
Far from the bitter gaze of soul man

In sorrow we fly our loved ones
To die in the of the wild
My brethren can seek no beneath these wings
Until dead men rise from graves

How sad it is for me to see
My fathers fallen
Here once prideful men as Gods
With veins aflame and hearts of

Yet my fathers are long dead and gone
And I with heart so
And limbs so
It seems our sun is all but

And we children have
for years
And felt the cruel of freezing winds
But the harshest of all to come...

To at last to an empty home

"Adapted and altered from the Irish tale
of the Children of Lir, turned to swans and
to roam for 300 years before returning home...to an
home. An interesting for an allegorical tale. One of
displacement, disenchantment and alienation...from world
and its ways. Longing for Age...
another time, place..."