Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

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

I fix his meals and talk to him in my old Spanish
He at things and tells me names of things I can't recall
And 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 just like a in an engine
He only stops to a drink and smoke a cigarette
When the day is ended, I look my window
There on the horizon, Mariano's

He sits a stone in a south-easterly direction
I my charts I know that he is thinking of his home
I've never been the 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
hair is black as widow's dreams, their dreams are all but gone
They're ancient as a vision of a virgin
An innocent as crying from a being born

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

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