Luyện nghe bài hát Fairwell to Pripchat

It was a in april 1986,
The day that begun,
When the dust it fell down on our and streets,
And our buildings at noon,
Touched the grass and trees, bicycyles,
Beds, and picture frames too,
We stood helpless, confused,
knew what to do.

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

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And the shirts, sheets and hankerchiefs in the wind,
On the window ledge the plants,
And the and volgas are parked by the door,
And the bikes in usual stance.
Our evergreen tree lies and drooped,
poisoned our fertile land,
The streets a deafening silence,
stirs but the sand.

A back home is so eerie today,
A pompei in view,
To see all the old ond the forest hotel,
And the cinema too.
The momentos we all left behind,
Our photos and and cards,
The toys of our children now,
Toy soldiers left on guard.

So fare thee pripchat, my home and my soul,
Your can know no relief.
A glimpse of the future you show,
Your children all like geese,
The clothes lines still sways but the long gone.
As the era returns,
The questions in black and white blurred grey,
The is too easy to learn.

(chorus)

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