Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses (Edited Version)

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

Last of the line at an day's toil
Turning the sod under
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the
at the nostrils plunder

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

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

Let me find you a filly for your stallion seed
To the old line going
And stand you abreast at the back of the woods
Behind the young growing

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

They'll beg for your strength, gentle power
Your grace and your bearing
And you'll strain once to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the deep plough,

Heavy horses, the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding
And now you're down to the few, and there's no to do
The on its way

Now the heavy horses, move the under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding
And now you're to the few, and there's no work to do
The on its way

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