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 chest, seasoning

Last of the line at an honest toil
the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock, the bone
Flies at the nostrils

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

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

Let me you a filly for your proud stallion seeds
To keep the old going
And well stand you abreast at the back of the
the young trees growing

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

Theyll beg for strength, your gentle power
Your noble grace and your
And youll strain once again to the of the gulls
In the of the deep plough, sharing

Heavy horses 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 harness, chained to the world
the low sun racing

Bring me a wheel of woods
A rein of leather
A horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy

Bring a song for the
Clean brass to the dawn
Across these acres
dew on a carpet lawn

In dark towns, folk lie sleeping
As the horses thunder by
So wake the city
With the living cry

At once the old hands
pick and wisp and curry comb
Thrill to the of all the
Heavy horses home

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

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

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

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

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

Now heavy horses move the land me
the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free