Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

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

I fix his meals and to him in my old broken spanish
He points at things and me names of things I can't recall
Sometimes I just can't but help but wonder who man is
And if when he is gone he'll remember me at all

I watch him close he just like a piston in an engine
He only to take a drink and smoke a cigarette
When the day is ended, I look outside my
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
never been the sort to say I'm in to intuition
But I swear I see the faces of the ones he his own

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

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

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