Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

The man outside he works for me, his is Mariano
He cuts and trims the grass for me he the flowers bloom
He says he comes from a place not far from Guanajuato
Thats two on a bus from here, a lifetime from this room.

I fix his meals and talk to him in my old broken
He points at things and tells me names of things I recall
Sometimes I just but help but wonder who this man is
And if when he is will he'll remember me at all

I watch him close he just like a piston in an engine
He only stops to a drink and smoke a cigarette
the day is ended, I look outside my window
There on the horizon, Mariano's

He sits upon a in a south-easterly direction
I know my charts I know that he is of his home
I've never been the to say I'm in to intuition
But I swear I see the of the ones he calls his own

Their skin is brown as potters clay, eyes void of expression
Their hair is black as widow's dreams, their dreams are all but
ancient as a vision of a sacrificial virgin
Innocent as crying a baby being born

hover around a dying flame and pray for his protection
Their are all but answered by his letters in the mail
He sends them colored figures that he cuts from of paper
And all his weekly wages, saving nothing for

It's been a since I have seen the face of Mariano
The border they came one day and took him far away
I hope that he is down there at home in Guanajuato
I worry though I there's revolution every day