Luyện nghe bài hát Flour In The Wind

Cold winter, late afternoon
The is short, is running low
On the river's surface, a mill
It sunk a long, long ago

The old, lame goes ashore
I what he's searching for

Death, pain,agony
Famin is spread all through the
Death, pain,agony
The white fog is by the air

Pale, bony fingers through the fields
They scratch out nourishing
The wicked fills his bags
With all the winter wheat

He grinds the corn and fills the air
turns to fog bringing hunger and dispair

Death, pain,agony....

Everytime this fog appears
There'll be no harvest only hunger and

Death, pain, agony....