Luyện nghe bài hát Prologue - Work Song

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

Look down, down
Don't 'em in the eye
down, look down,
You're here you die
The sun is
It's hot as hell
Look down, down,
There's years to go
done no wrong!
Sweet hear my prayer!
down, look down,
Sweet Jesus care
I know wait,
I know she'll be true!
Look down, down,
They've all you
I get free, ya won't see me
for dust!
Look down, look
Don't 'em in the eye
How O Lord
you let me die?
Look down, down,
You'll be a slave
down, look down,
You're standing in grave

Now bring me 24601
Your is up
And parole's begun
You what that means

Yes, it I'm free

NO!
It you get
Your ticket-of-leave
You are a

I a loaf of bread!

You a house!

I broke a pane!
My sister's child was close to
And we starving!

And you will starve
Unless you learn the of the law.

I the meaning of those 19 years
A of the law

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

My name is Jean

And I'm
Do not forget my
Do not me

Look down, look
You will always be a
down, look down
You're in your grave.

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

[He finds on a farm.]

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

You've given me
the other men get!
This of tin
buy my sweat!

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

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

[He to an inn.]

Wife:
My are full
And no supper to spare
I'd like to help a
All we is to be fair

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

You my house
Or feel the of my rod
We're people here
be to God.

[They him out.]

And now I know how freedom
The jailer at your heels
It is the law!
This piece of paper in my
That makes me throughout the land
It is the law!
a cur
I walk the
The dirt my feet.

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

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

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

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