Luyện nghe bài hát Digging for Some Words

Wanderers and nomads have to see their chieftains
Will be the end of the rain and the birds?
Who can an emissary to speak to the seasons?
For the and the crows already soak up the skies

I'm digging for words beneath the stones in Zimbabwe
I'm for a drum song in the jungles of Zaire
I'm groping for the blood moon in the mountains of
Looking for the of Ethiopia

Settling dusk gets darkened by the bark of the
The and the owls no longer call to the moon
The warlords have gathered, blue hiss from teeth of chrome
And the baobab in the boiling blood loam

The fireplace is broken and the grinding too
Its million pieces flung the plains of Africa
Each dusty fragment, a seed from which
The memory of a debt only you and I will know

and nomads have gone to see their chieftains
Will be the end of the rain and the birds?
Who can send an to speak to the seasons?
For the ravens and the crows soak up the skies

Seven seasoned soldiers have been from Saigon
A craven walkie-talkie their bloodshot armor on
Some drink beer, milk, some drink
Sheep dogs live in Outeniqua, gun dogs in

Flames lick the corners of each hungry horseman's
They have locusts in scabbards and desert's in their eyes
Passing through the air, they leave a sea of rumors
As they ride upon the skyline on a secret of lies

Wanderers and nomads gone to see their chieftains
this be the end of the rain and the birds?
Who can send an emissary to speak to the
For the ravens and the already soak up the skies

I some words beneath a stone in Zimbabwe
I heard a distant drum song in the jungles of
The blood moon spoke of war in the of Malawi
But I never found the lion of

Wanderers and nomads have gone to see chieftains
Will this be the end of the and the birds?
Who can send an to speak to the seasons?
For the ravens and the crows already up the skies