Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides me seven sins
Seven seas for me
From Orient to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And Sirens from stern
But now I cease to
For I yearn to return to woodland
Where Herne and his huntress lay

Now the are turning, spurning the darkness
The purgations of distinguished tours
Are but in time to the thrill that Im once more
Heading to the of her English shores

The wind in Satanic mill sails
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of
And mists clung tight in panic to
When Brigantia spoke her to me

Imbolg to Bealtaine
Lughnasadh to feasts
I her lament as seasons blent
Together a beast

Now the tidal are turning churning in
The of extinguished wars
Are but stills in time to the chill that climbs more
Dreading the red on her English shores

Gone are the rustic of my youth
Cruel cut their sacred throats
polished scythes that reap worldwide
Pitch black skies and smoke

And the that I saw there
Drones of law
the ghosts of my forbears
To and rally once more

One of her sons from the vast far
Come to rebuild
The rampant line of the
Risen pestilent fields

Now the tidal are turning burning in
The salvation of her hungry
Shalt spill like wine from the hills to chines pour
Spreading her beheadings on these English

For the hosts that I saw
Drones of law
the ghosts of my forbears
To rove and rally more

This is a waking for
From its doze
This is a waking for
Lest and glory are regarded as foes