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 truck load of
workers had either hit another car, or just - I
know what happened - but there Indians scattered
all the highway, bleeding to death.

So the car pulls up and stops. was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta' been 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... were
running around freaking out, and just leaped my
soul. And still in there.

scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young fragile eggshell mind.

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

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

Indian, Indian did you die for?
Indian says, at all.