Luyện nghe bài hát Lorca's Novena

Ignacio lay dying in the
A red rose clutched in a dying hand
The women wept to see hero die
And the big black birds in the sky

of all our joys
Mother of all our
Intercede him tonight
For all of our

The years went by and then the came
And took the men and marched up the hill of pain
And Lorca, the faggot poet they left last
Blew his brains out a pistol up his arse

Mother of all our
Mother of all our
with him tonight
For all of our

The came to mutilate the dead
But ran in terror to search the town instead
But Lorca's corpse, as he had prophesied, walked away
And the sound was the women in the chapel praying

of all our joys
Mother of all our
Intercede him tonight
For all of our