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 from a place not far from Guanajuato
That's two days on a bus from here, a lifetime from 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 sometimes I just can't but help but wonder who man is
And if he is gone will he'll remember me at all

I watch him close he works just a piston in an engine
He stops to take a drink 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 my charts I know that he is thinking of his home
never been 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 void of
hair is black as widow's dreams, their dreams are all but gone
They're ancient as a vision of a sacrificial
An innocent as crying from a being born

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

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