Luyện nghe bài hát Horned Is The Hunter

Alone he
A vanquished upon an oaken throne,
o'er this conflict
That him to the bone,
For each tarnished blade that
Is a thrust in his side,
And His pain alone witness
To the of mankind.

What hope for a king no kingdom to rule?
Now his desert him
him a fool,
And are bonded to
The and the scythe
That lay and leave barren
What beauty
Though legends of power and suffice
For 'latter-day-heroes'
Who live out lives,
by conformity shackled by greed
And told to believe don't want to be freed.

The enemy us
Is well to spoil and rape,
And this mighty heart grows weaker
Each they take,
So come ye from the
Do not tremble 'neath beds,
At the mention of his
high your weary heads.

For in each and greenwood,
Far creatures play,
And in veins and sinews,
the Gods of yesterday.

Both wicked and
This God's might,
He hide and seek
With the of the night,
in high mountains
Nobility crowned the wisdom of ages
The his gown,
So the fingers that pipe out the tune,
Simple and pure is the of the moon
echoes each evening the ritual performed,
A lament for a God to a transformed.

Are men among us
Prepared to the fight
Who'll by their convictions
'Gainst might,
So do not hide like
And the bitter end,
Come take your in both hands
And join me my friend.

For in each and greenwood,
Far creatures play,
And in their and sinews,
the Gods of yesterday.

A God of faces
Yet none of are known
Existing in all at all times
His glory in the majesty of nature,
Let the Hymn to Pan be
For the is but a History Of A Time To Come.

His is eternal
His unknown,
The ruler
He alone,
As great tumble and empires fall,
Amidst this confusion the stands tall.