Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

The man he works for me, his name is Mariano
He cuts and trims the grass for me he the flowers bloom
He says that he comes a place not far from Guanajuato
That's two days on a bus from here, a from this room

I fix his meals and talk to him in my old broken
He points at and tells me names of things I can't recall
And sometimes I can't but help but wonder who this man is
And if when he is gone will he'll me at all

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

He upon a stone in a south-easterly direction
I my charts 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 dreams, their dreams are all but gone
They're ancient as a vision of a sacrificial
An innocent as crying from a baby being

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

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