Luyện nghe bài hát Masque Of The Red Death

(inspired by the of Edgar Allen Poe)

I. Red
It was a time when was short
devastated was the land
Never had there been
A more fatal against all man
Pungent pain, faintness
Your energy begins to
As you stand there daunted
You 'Red Death' is on it's way
Blood, blood, and more blood
bleeding at the pores
You your blood slowly sizzle
As your flesh dissolves more
Screams of anguish, still flowing
Pollutes the a rotten red
Your time has come, you must your maker
As you slip into the valley of the shadow of

II. The Prince's Plan
All men feared great disaster
But the Prince had the only answer
For his and his chosen ones
The inception of new life would them of contagion
it was this structure of seclusion
Surrounded by these walls so massive yet
The were welded shut impervious to those forsaken
Never go of the souls that were taken
There was beauty, was wine
and sweet nectar
Flowing from
All appliances of
Inside the
Providing noble
Outside the gates
'Red Death' sits and waits for you

It was toward the of the fifth or
sixth of his seclusion, and while the
pestilence most furiously abroad, that
the Prospreo entertained his thousand
friends at a masked ball of the unusual
magnificence... Allen Poe (1809-1849)

III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth and Return of the Red Death
Bizzare it was chambers
Held this except for one
It alone, the western wing
Where no one shared offerings
Blood panes, brazier or fire
Projects rays
A stands tall, ominous
It warns of so soon to be
So loud, so deep the guests pay
The dissonant of ebony
The crowd goes as darkness
the maskers in their revelry
Then as the echos
A light laughter through the assembly
And all is
Until the next chiming of old

The clock struck the twelfth hour
And ceased as the revellers cowered
The swings all still, all silent
Save the voice of old
As the last chime died and sunk silence
it was felt a presence so strange
Tall and gaunt who is masked figure
Shrouded in of the grave?
His blood splattered bore a striking resemblence
The countenance of a corpse
He stalked to and fro in a slow, solemn
Enraging the Duke, of his sanctuary
him, unmask him, ' commanded the prince
'Who insult us with this blasphemous mockery?
You'll at sunrise! '
Not a person came forth it like all was lost
As the intruder make his way
An anon he went on trugged through each
Where the once swelled and the dreams lived on and on
The in pursuit dagger drawn aloft
As the figure retreats to the chamber
He suddenly turns, a piercing cry
Now the Prince lay dead in the of the velvet...
Then summoning the wild of despair,
A throng of revellers at threw themselves
Into the apartment, and seizing the mummer,
Whose tall dark figure stood and motionless
the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped
In horror at finding the grave
Cerements and corpse-like mask, which
with so violent a rudeness, untenated
By any form.
And now was the presence
Of the Red Death. He had come as a
In the night and one by one droppd the
In the blood-bedewed of their revel,
And died each in the despairing of his fall.
As the life of the ebony clock out
With the last of the gay.
And the flames of the tripods expired. And
And Decay and the Red Death illimitable dominion over all...
Edgar Poe (1809-1849)