Luyện nghe bài hát East of Woodstock, West of Viet Nam

I slept through the Nineteen Sixties, I Dory Previn say
But me I caught me the great bird, to the shores of Africay
Where I lost my heart, to the sound of a talking drum
Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of

And on the roads outside Oshogbo, Lord I fell down on my
There were female spirits in old mud huts, iron bells ringing up in the
And an white priest, she made juju all night long
Yeah, of Woodstock, West of Vietnam

Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy, yeah were coming the rye
In the I saw the man on the moon, I laughed so hard I cried
It was somewhere in those rainy seasons, I learned to carve my song
Yeah, of Woodstock, West of Vietnam

Oh Africa, Mother Africa, you lay heavy on my
You old cradle of civilization, heart of darkness blood and
Though we had to play you running scared, when the ate the sun
Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of

Well I think its going to rain tonight, I can it coming off the sea
As I sit here reading old Graham Greene I taste Africa on page
Then I close my eyes and see those red clay roads, and its sundown and boys Im
Yeah, East of Woodstock, of Vietnam

Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy, yeah were through the rye
It was a moveable of war and memory, a dark old lullaby
It was the smoke of a thousand camp fires, it was the end of a gun,
Yeah, East of Woodstock, of Vietnam.

Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of