Luyện nghe bài hát Scorched Earth

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

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

Charging madly forward, tracks the snow,
Wind screams madness to him, on he goes
Leaving spoor to mark his passage, trace his climb.
Cross the moor and the headland; stumbling, wayward, blind.
In the end his footprints extend as one line.

This latest exponent of heresy is into an attack,
Persuaded to at his enemy.
Too late, he knows that it is, too late now to back,
Too by far to falter.
The pass uneasily at his rear,
He's right into the trap.
Surrounded, but striving will and fear.
of him he knows there waits an ambuscade
But the dice slip through his
And he's living day to day,
Carrying his world upon his back,
Leaving behind but the tell-tale of his track.

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

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

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