Luyện nghe bài hát Polkageist!

One day out exploring in some
far-flung foreign corner, I respite
from my to admire the local fauna.
When the twilight distance a peel of
bells and laughter, set my
fluttering like bats chapel rafters.
On entering a clearing I did
impending peril, a Gypsy wench
with eyes bright, sharp and feral.
She smiled at me so
(bit a lip that of danger),
a look fit to disarm
this poor, stranger.

Her rhythm upon me
it me in a trice.
That she wove about me
me tight as any vice.
(She spoke in above me).
Though I cast my to Christ,
need the virtue of a saint
to not - overcome this
Polkageist.

Arms of ivory strummed
summond me the middle.
Pan up his pipes
heard Herne a at the fiddle.
She wrapped about me
(felt her hot at my ear);
a horizontal polka
down the path to I fear.

We're on a path to I fear!

Her rhythm upon me
it me in a trice.
That she wove about me
me tight as any vice.
(She spoke in above me).
Though I my eyes to Christ,
you'd need the virtue of a
to not succumb - this
Polkageist.

The Horny
"A sent to haunt you
taunting all your days.
vaunt
cavorting to the reel plays.
I head our wild
(every from man to mouse),
finds in possession
is in the house!"

Juice of beyond forbidden
dripping from her fingers,
she my hand and led me
to that where cunning lingers.

Her rhythm pounced me
it me in a trice.
That she wove about me
gripped me as any vice.
(She spoke in above me).
Though I cast my to Christ,
you'd need the of a saint
to not - overcome this
Polkageist.