Luyện nghe bài hát Children Of The Harvest

Seems we are to live our days
Far the dwellings of men
As tides and shifting sands
Far from the bitter of soul less man

In we fly from our loved ones
To die in the waters of the
My brethren can seek no shelter these wings
dead men rise from their graves

How sad it is for me to see
My fallen halls
Here once men clashed as Gods
With veins aflame and of thunder

Yet my fathers are long since dead and
And I heart so heavy
And limbs so
It our sun is all but dimmed

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

To return at to an empty home

"Adapted and from the Irish folklore tale
of the Children of Lir, to swans and condemned
to roam for 300 before returning home...to an empty
home. An interesting spine for an tale. One of
displacement, disenchantment and alienation...from this
and its ways. Longing for Age...
time, another place..."