Luyện nghe bài hát Hands Of A Dyingman

This on...

Before me a wounded soul
A sprit at the end of a road
Such a cruel fate looms yet he has no
As the sands of existence like tears

All joy had
All was mine
I held the hands
Hands of a man

Another lingers overhead
Now that I the cold touch
From the of a dying man

Death never resting
fed, never repenting
Robbed of justice, faith
Accepting this all it what it take

So pass judgement
An cast stones
But only once youve held the of a dying man

Ill grant forgiveness
For the wrong done
Once youve felt the coldest
From the of a dying man

And for who still speak names in vain
My justice lies in knowing
eat every fucking word!

So now ill use to...
Strengthen, the fight of me
Strengthen, beyond you can see
Strengthen, my
In honour of who choose to carry on
I strengthen, the fight of me
Strengthen, what you can see
Strengthen, my
Always in the names of who carry on

One day youll a touch so cold
And youll it all alone
And whats is what you own
is where it all strikes home