Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses

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

Last of the at an honest days toil
the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the
Flies at the nostrils

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

Heavy horses 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

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

To hide you from eyes that at your girth
Youre hands at the shoulder
And one day when the oil barons have all dry
And the nights are seen to colder

Theyll beg for strength, your gentle power
Your noble and your bearing
And youll strain once again to the sound of the
In the wake of the deep plough,

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

Standing like on the brow of the hill
Up into the wind facing
In stiff battle harness, chained to the
the low sun racing

Bring me a wheel of oaken
A rein of polished
A heavy and a tumbling sky
heavy weather

Bring a song for the
Clean to flash the dawn
these acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet

In these dark towns, lie sleeping
As the heavy thunder by
So wake the dying
With the living cry

At once the old quicken
Bring pick and and curry comb
Thrill to the of all the
Heavy horses home

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

Bring me a wheel of oaken
A of polished leather
A horse and the tumbling sky
heavy weather

Heavy move the land under me
the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free
And now youre down to the few and no work to do
The on its way

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

Oh, horses 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 horses move the land me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and free