Luyện nghe bài hát Peppers And Tomatoes

This year in my garden I grow and tomatoes,
Peppers and tomatoes, grow together well,
And my neighbours all around me they grow beans and
Cabbages and onions in village where we dwell.

And later in the year we bring wine to the table
Bring to the table, and reap what we have sown.
my father did before and his father did before him
And his father did him, we will share what we have grown.

This little patch of dirt, this little of stones.
I can wash the from off my face, and skin
But earth is in my bones.

Military vehicles are through our village
through our village with young soldiers ill at ease.
Unsmiling and unshaven, and uncertain
and uncertain, and all smoking constantly.

And my neighbours say "Don't for you are one of us,
You are one of us and it not happen here",
But the next night at the caf, I bring wine to the table,
When I wine to the table, but they are sitting drinking beer.

night the hand of friendship fell heavy on my shoulders,
Heavy on my shoulders as I turned to go.
As I said goodnight some old men, old men and young soldiers
Were humming and singing words to songs that I did not know.

Oh this little patch of dirt, and little pile of stones
I can the dust from off my face and skin,
But this is in my bones.

morning my wife told me that she'd been to church on Sunday,
Been to church on Sunday, she had the need to pray.
Our children were there but it was just to please the old ones,
to please the old ones, and I don't know what to say.

Tonight, as dark is falling, I am to my garden,
to my garden, and the crop that I have grown.
And my car is heavy laden, and I'll start the engine,
Soon I'll the engine, wake the children and be gone.

Oh this little patch of dirt, and this little of stones
I can wash the from off my face and skin
But earth is in my bones.

My it is loaded, and it's hidden in the cabin,
hidden in the cabin, and the evening's growing chilled.
My mouth is dry, my hands are moist, and if someone tries to me,
Someone to stop me, I am ready now to kill.

Oh this little patch of dirt, and this pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my and skin
But this is in my bones.

I am watering my garden, I smell the cigarette smoke,
Smell the cigarette smoke, and I round in the dust
And I see the glint of rifles, but I see the faces
But I recognise the voices say, "You must come with us".