Luyện nghe bài hát Dawn's Highway

Indians scattered on dawn's highway
Ghosts crowd the child's fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and - and a
grandmother and a grandfather - were driving
the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of
had either hit another car, or just - I don't
know what happened - but there were Indians
all over the highway, to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first
I tasted fear. I musta' been four - like a child is
like a flower, his head is floating in the
breeze, man.
The reaction I get now about it, looking
back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those
Indians...maybe one or two of 'em...were
running freaking out, and just leaped into my
soul. And still in there.
scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of New
Blood stains the and the palm trees of Venice
Blood in my in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of L.A.
Blood screams her as they chop off her fingers
will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the of mysterious union
on the rise, it's following me.
Indian, what did you die for?
Indian says, at all.