Luyện nghe bài hát L'homme

At night you dream of what hands may make,
Come youve forgotten to create.
Only can help mend your broken bones
For stones were thrown battles took place.

You fought with sticks,
without faith.
From of sacred trees.
Ideas waver in the breeze.
The shackles you down.

Dionysus sat with at his feet,
Silver thread in his
On a throne of bones
to the wandering spirits of the dark.

Thy come,
Thy will be
Eyes, Scratched with
Saw one

You with your sticks,
Memories faith.
roots of sacred trees.
Ideas in the southern breeze.
The shackles you down.

You fought with sticks,
Memories faith.
From of sacred trees.
Ideas waver in the breeze.
The shackles you down.