Luyện nghe bài hát Dawn's Highway

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Indians scattered on dawn's highway
crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and - and a
and a grandfather - were driving through
the desert, at dawn, and a truck of Indian
workers had either hit another car, or - I don't
know happened - but there were Indians scattered
all the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. That was the time
I fear. I musta' been about four - like a child is
a flower, his head is just floating in the
breeze, man.
The I get now thinking about it, looking
back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those
Indians...maybe one or two of 'em...were
running around out, and just leaped into my
soul. And still in there.
Indians scattered on highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile mind.
Blood in the in the town of New Haven
Blood stains the and the palm trees of Venice
in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of L.A.
Blood screams her brain as they off her fingers
Blood will be born in the if a nation
Blood is the of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, it's me.
Indian, Indian did you die for?
says, nothing at all.