Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses

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

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

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

Heavy move the land 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

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
Behind the young growing

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

Theyll beg for your strength, your 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, and sliding free
And now youre down to the few and theres no to do
The on its way

Standing like tanks on the brow of the
Up into the wind facing
In stiff harness, chained to the world
Against the low sun

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

a song for the evening
Clean to flash the dawn
Across acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet

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

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

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

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

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

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