Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses

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

Last of the line at an honest toil
Turning the deep sod
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the
Flies at the plunder

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

me a wheel of oaken woods
A rein of leather
A horse 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 the dying city
With the living cry

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

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

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

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

Oh, heavy horses move the under me
Behind the plough gliding, 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 youre down to the few and no work to do
The on its way

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