Luyện nghe bài hát Mariano

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

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

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

He sits upon a in a south-easterly direction
I know my charts I 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 faces of the ones he his own

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

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

It's been a while since I 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 though I read there's revolution every day