Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

The man he works for me, his name is Mariano
He cuts and trims the for me he makes the flowers bloom
He that he comes from a place not far from Guanajuato
Thats two days on a bus from here, a 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 just but help but wonder who this man is
And if when he is gone he'll remember me at all

I watch him close he works 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, silhouette

He sits upon a in a south-easterly direction
I know my charts I know he is thinking of his home
I've been the sort to say I'm in to intuition
But I swear I see the of the ones he calls his own

Their is brown as potters clay, their eyes void of expression
Their hair is black as widow's dreams, their are all but gone
They're ancient as a vision of a sacrificial
Innocent as crying from a 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 from strips of paper
And all his weekly wages, nothing for himself

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