Luyện nghe bài hát Fairwell to Pripchat

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

At two o'clock on sunday the arrived,
A of a thousand or more,
We ordered to be on our way,
Not what lay in store ,
Some of our fled in dismay,
And for a good place to hide,
When four came 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 the withering plants,
And the and volgas are parked by the door,
And the bikes in it's stance.
Our tree lies withered and drooped,
They've our fertile land,
The speak a deafening silence,
Nothing but the sand.

A visit back home is so today,
A pompei in view,
To see all the old shops ond the hotel,
And the promyet too.
The we gathered all left behind,
Our photos and and cards,
The toys of our untouchable now,
Toy left standing on guard.

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

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