Luyện nghe bài hát Dawn's Highway

Indians scattered on highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the child's fragile eggshell mind.

Me and my -ah- mother and - and a
grandmother and a grandfather - driving through
the desert, at dawn, and a load of Indian
workers had 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. was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta' about four - like a child is
a flower, his head is just floating in the
breeze, man.
The reaction I get now thinking it, looking
back - is that the souls of the ghosts of dead
Indians... maybe one or two of 'em... just
around freaking out, and just leaped into my
soul. And still in there.

Indians scattered on dawn's bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's eggshell mind.

in the streets in the town of New Haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm of Venice
in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of L.A.

Blood screams her brain as they chop off her
Blood will be in the birth if a nation
Blood is the of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, following me.

Indian, Indian what did you die
says, nothing at all.