Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

The man he works for me, his name is Mariano
He cuts and trims the grass for me he makes the flowers
He says that he comes from a not far from Guanajuato
That's 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 of things I can't recall
And I just can't but help but wonder who this man is
And if he is gone will he'll remember me at all

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

He sits upon a stone in a direction
I know my charts I know he is thinking of his home
never been the sort to say I'm in to intuition
But I swear I see the faces of the he calls his own

Their skin is brown as potters clay, their void of expression
Their hair is black as widow's dreams, dreams are all but gone
They're ancient as a vision of a sacrificial
An innocent as crying a baby being born

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

It's been a 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 there's every day