Luyện nghe bài hát Flour In The Wind

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

The old, lame miller goes
I know what he's for

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

Pale, fingers search through the fields
They scratch out seed
The miller fills his bags
With all the stolen wheat

He grinds the corn and flour the air
Flour to fog bringing hunger and dispair

Death, pain,agony....

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

Death, pain, agony....