Luyện nghe bài hát Prologue - Work Song

1815, Toulon, France. The chain gang, overseen by brutal warders, in the sun.]

Look down, down
Don't 'em in the eye
down, look down,
You're here you die
The sun is
hot as hell below
Look down, down,
twenty years to go
I've no wrong!
Sweet Jesus my prayer!
down, look down,
Sweet Jesus care
I know wait,
I know she'll be true!
Look down, down,
all forgotten you
When I get free, ya see me
for dust!
Look down, look
Don't 'em in the eye
How long O
you let me die?
Look down, down,
always be a slave
Look down, down,
You're standing in your

Now bring me 24601
time is up
And parole's begun
You know that means

Yes, it means I'm

NO!
It you get
Your yellow
You are a

I a loaf of bread!

You a house!

I broke a pane!
My child was close to death
And we starving!

And you starve again
Unless you the meaning of the law.

I know the of those 19 years
A of the law

Five years for you did
The rest you tried to run
Yes

My is Jean Valjean

And I'm
Do not forget my
Do not me

Look down, down
You always be a slave
Look down, down
You're standing in grave.

Freedom is mine. The is still.
I the wind. I breathe again.
And the sky clears, the is waking.
from the pool. How clean the taste
Never the years, the waste.
Nor forgive them, for what done.
are the guilty, everyone.
The day begins...
And now see
this new world
do for me!

[He work on a farm.]

You'll to go
pay you off for the day
Collect your bits and there
And be on way.

You've me half
What the men get!
This of tin
buy my sweat!

You the law
there for people to see
Why you get the same
As honest men me?

Now every is closed to me
Another jail, another key, chain
For when I to any town
check my papers
And they find the of Cain
In their eyes, I see their
`We do not you here.'

[He to an inn.]

Innkeeper's
My rooms are
And no supper to spare
I'd like to help a
All we want is to be

I will pay in
I can sleep in a
You see how it is
I'm not some of dog!

You leave my
Or the weight of my rod
We're people here
be to God.

throw him out.]

And now I how freedom feels
The jailer at your heels
It is the law!
piece of paper in my hand
That makes me cursed throughout the
It is the law!
a cur
I walk the
The beneath my feet.

[He sits down despairingly a house from which emerges the Bishop of Digne.]

Come in, Sir, for you are
And the is cold out there.
Though our lives are very
we have, we have to share.
There is wine to revive you,
is bread to make you strong,
There's a bed to till morning,
Rest from pain, and from wrong.

He let me eat my
I had the lion's
The silver in my
Cost twice what I had
In all those nineteen
That of despair
And yet he me.
The old fool me -
done his bit of good
I played the serf
And thanked him like I
But the house was still,
I got up in the
Took the
my flight!

[Taking the silver cup, he runs off, but is brought by two constables.]