Luyện nghe bài hát Fairwell to Pripchat

It was a friday in 1986,
The day that begun,
When the it fell down on our buildings and streets,
And entered our at noon,
the grass and trees, bicycyles, cars
Beds, books and frames too,
We stood helpless, confused,
Nobody knew to do.

At two on sunday the buses arrived,
A fleet of a or more,
We ordered to be on our way,
Not knowing lay in store ,
of our citizens fled in dismay,
And looked for a good to hide,
When four o'clock came and the last bus out,
T'was the day our lively town died.

(chorus)
And the shirts, and hankerchiefs cracks in the wind,
On the window ledge the plants,
And the ladas and are parked by the door,
And the in it's usual stance.
Our evergreen tree lies and drooped,
They've our fertile land,
The streets speak a silence,
Nothing but the sand.

A visit home is so eerie today,
A modern in view,
To see all the old shops ond the hotel,
And the cinema too.
The we gathered all left behind,
Our and letters and cards,
The of our children untouchable now,
Toy soldiers standing on guard.

So fare thee well pripchat, my and my soul,
Your sorrow can no relief.
A terrifying glimpse of the you show,
Your children all like geese,
The clothes lines still sways but the owners gone.
As the era returns,
The in black and white blurred into grey,
The answer is too to learn.

(chorus)

(chorus)