Luyện nghe bài hát Peppers And Tomatoes

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

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

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

vehicles are passing through our village
Passing through our village with soldiers ill at ease.
Unsmiling and unshaven, distrustful and
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 will not here",
But the next night at the caf, I bring wine to the table,
When I bring to the table, but they are sitting drinking beer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am watering my garden, when I the cigarette smoke,
Smell the smoke, and I turn round in the dust
And I see the of rifles, but I cannot see the faces
But I recognise the voices say, "You must come with us".