Luyện nghe bài hát Psalms Alive

I am the that you cant strike
I am the spear will run you through

And when the shots were we were sound asleep
And you filled your with dirty bombs
of hand-grenades

I am teeth which cannot
Ill tear garden up by the roots

And the shots were falling we were sound asleep
And you filled your palms with bombs
Instead of

the seven bell tolls
Ringing for you
Coroners and
Cry out, Gloria!

All across the
towards the sun
The prophet sways and
Pulls a price everyone

the heavy hoof-beats
Pound the land
The sin of our
within our clutching hands

Watch the planes pass
its call-to-arms
The golden of morning
Made me my bended knee