Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses

Iron-clad, pounding the dust
On Octobers day, evening
Sweat embossed standing proud to the plough
Salt on a chest, seasoning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the old hands quicken
Bring pick and wisp and curry
Thrill to the of all the
Heavy horses coming

Iron-clad, pounding the dust
On day, towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing to the plough
on a deep chest, seasoning

Bring me a wheel of oaken
A rein of polished
A heavy and the tumbling sky
heavy 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 gliding, slipping and sliding free
And now youre down to the few and theres no to do
The on its way

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

Now heavy horses the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding