Luyện nghe bài hát Silver And Gold

In the shit a shotgun
Praying hands hold me
Only the hunter was
In this tin can
Tin can

No stars in the night
Looks like the sky down
No sun in the
Looks like it's chained to the
to the ground
The warden
The is sold
If you a way out
and gold

Broken back to the
Broken to the floor
I at the silence, it's crawling
It under the door
There's a rope my neck
And a trigger in your gun
say something
I am someone, I am
I am

and kings
In the ships
They to collect
Silver and
and gold

Seen the and going
Seen them and the kings
See them navy blue
See them bright and shiny
shiny things

The is rising
The white hot
Mister, I ain't got
But more than you got

Chains no bind me
Not the shackles at my
Outside are the
Inside the
Set them
Set free

A prize fighter in a is told
Hit it hurts
and gold
Silver and

Yep, and gold
This song was written in a room in New York city
'Round about the time a friend or ours, Steven,
Was putting together a record of against apartheid
This is a song written a man
In a town outside of Johannesburg
A man who's sick of down
The of white South Africa
A man who is at the
Where he is ready to take up against his oppressor
A man who has lost in the peacemakers of the west
While argue and while they fail to support a man
Like bishop Tutu and his request for economic
Against Africa

Am I you, I don't mean to bug ya

Okay Edge, the blues