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 that he from a place not far from Guanajuato
Thats two days on a bus here, a lifetime from this room.

I fix his and talk to him in my old broken spanish
He points at things and tells me names of I can't recall
Sometimes I can't 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 works just like a in an engine
He only to take a drink and smoke a cigarette
the day is ended, I look outside my window
There on the horizon, silhouette

He upon a stone in a south-easterly direction
I know my I know that he is thinking of his home
I've never the sort 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, their eyes of expression
Their hair is black as widow's dreams, their are all but gone
They're as a vision of a sacrificial virgin
as crying from a baby being born

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

It's been a while 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 though I read there's revolution every day