Luyện nghe bài hát Spirit Of The Land

The rivers are dry across the land and the farmers fields have to sand
'Cause the hasn't come for two years going on three
The topsoil's gone with the hot wind, the crops won't grow and rust set in
And the south wind of winter brought no relief

And the old men in the bar talk of floods and droughts before
And as the night on the conversations die
But the battlers don't give up, it's written on hands
And in their eye-eye-eye-eye-eyes, and the of the land survives

And on Saturday night in the Hotel, Hank the Dutchman plays guitar
He sings and western favourites and requests
It used to be his job, a bit of a laugh for a couple of bob
Now all he's got 'cause his crops all died from thirst

Then he spent his savings on cattle and sheep, he got credit, got in too deep
But stock won't graze on turned to salt
And then he tried to get work as a travelling man selling Rawleighs products the back of his van
But the cockies all in town where things are cheap

And the old men in the public bar of floods and droughts before
And as the night goes on the die
But the battlers give up, it's written on their hands
And in their eye-eye-eye-eye-eyes, and the spirit of the land

The school's all rundown, the roofs rusted and the paint's
The playground's just a dustbowl, not a spot of
The kids still kick their footballs sending clouds to the sun
And it's good to know the drought can't the fun

And in the lounge late at night where the cockies talk and the shearers fight
And their wives drink shandies 'cause be dri