Luyện nghe bài hát Scorched Earth

Just one moment while the dice are cast,
He looks into the future and what is past,
Wonders what he's on this battlefield,
Shrugs to his shadow, impatient, too yet to kneel.

In his wake he leaves earth and work in vain;
drifts up behind him - he is free again,
Free to run before the of a deadly foe,
Leaving nothing fit for pillage, hardly home.
And it's far too to turn, unless it's to stone.

Charging forward, tracks across the snow,
Wind screams madness to him, on he goes
spoor to mark his passage, trace his weary climb.
Cross the moor and make the stumbling, wayward, blind.
In the end his footprints as one single line.

This exponent of heresy is goaded into an attack,
Persuaded to at his enemy.
Too late, he that it is, too late now to turn back,
Too by far to falter.
The sits uneasily at his rear,
walking right into the trap.
Surrounded, but through will and fear.
Ahead of him he there waits an ambuscade
But the dice slip his fingers
And living from day to day,
Carrying his world upon his back,
nothing behind but the tell-tale of his track.

He will not be hostage, he not be slave,
No of past can trap him, though the future may.
Still he and burns behind him in advanced retreat;
his life remains unfettered; he denies defeat.

It's far too late to turn, unless to stone.
Leave the to burn; at least that's been his own.

Scorched earth, that's all that's left he's done;
nothing but beholden to no one
Claiming nothing, out of no pride, he survives.
Snow are all that's left to be seen
Of a man who the course of a dream,
nothing but the life he's known
This, at least, has his own.