Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses

Iron-clad, feather-feet pounding the
On Octobers day, towards
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the
Salt on a deep chest,

Last of the line at an honest days
Turning the sod under
Flint at the fetlock, the bone
at the nostrils plunder

The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the vie
the shire on his feathers, floating
Hauling soft timber the dusk
To bed on a straw coating

Heavy horses the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and free
And now youre to the few and theres no work to do
The on its way

Let me find you a filly for your stallion seeds
To the old line going
And well stand you abreast at the of the woods
Behind the trees growing

To hide you eyes that mock at your girth
Youre eighteen hands at the
And one day when the oil barons all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to draw

Theyll beg for your strength, your gentle
Your noble grace and bearing
And youll strain once to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the plough, sharing

horses move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and free
And now youre down to the few and theres no to do
The on its way

Standing like tanks on the of the hill
Up into the cold facing
In stiff battle harness, to the world
the low sun racing

Bring me a of oaken woods
A rein of leather
A heavy horse and a sky
Brewing weather

Bring a song for the
Clean brass to the dawn
Across acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet

In these dark towns, lie sleeping
As the horses thunder by
So the dying city
the living horsemans cry

At once the old hands
Bring pick and wisp and comb
Thrill to the of all the
Heavy horses coming

Iron-clad, feather-feet the dust
On Octobers day, towards
Sweat embossed veins standing to the plough
Salt on a chest, seasoning

Bring me a wheel of oaken
A rein of polished
A horse and the tumbling sky
Brewing weather

Heavy horses the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding
And now youre down to the few and theres no to do
The on its way

Oh, heavy horses move the under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and free
And now youre down to the few and theres no to do
The on its way

Oh, heavy move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, and sliding free
And now youre to the few and theres no work to do
The on its way

Now heavy move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, and sliding free