Luyện nghe bài hát Tain, Pts1 - 5

I]

[crone:] here this pillow
made of reed and
you're a little twister
are you sweet on your
your won't leave you alone.

and granted for pleasure
possesions laid to
she's a salty pisser
with your in her kisser
but now she's a of her own.

II]

[husband:] damn ankles and eyes wide
from you to your ponytails too.
king of the and the m-5
charlemagne in a motorcade too.

and baby a new prize
needs a new and shiny prize.

[captain:] in place called heavenly
you born here.
place called heavenly
you born here.
you born here.

[husband:] and now all the marchers from high
i will all of my awakenings to this.

and damn all the angles opress my sight
i will bleed your through a samovar soon.

[captain:] in this place called
you born here.
place called heavenly
you were here.
you born here.

[PART

they settled dust in your hair
to watch you and shout it out.
with our armaments
we our bags and travel alls.

from the lee of the
he in the chang and the chariot
and all his eunuchs in
can scarce his line and lariat.

here com his hounds
to me down.

[chorus of blow me down.

[soldier:] on this of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

[chaplain:] and now stricken pangs
that tear at our backs thistle down
the mirror's soft silver
reflects our and birthing hour

here com loose his hounds
to me down.

[chorus of waifs:] me down.

[soldier:] on this of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV]

[widow:] o the is blowing, it hurts your skin
as you climb up hillside, and fen.

your arms of lullabies, orchids and wine
memories wrapped within paper and twine.

the room you lie in is dusty and hard
sleeping soft babies on of yards
of gingham, taffeta, cotton and
your dry hungry cry for your mother's milk.

when the dawn commes to greet you, you'll rise clothes on
and advance with the others, singing old
of cattle and and withered old queens.
let the music you on.

the room that you lie in is dusty and
sleeping babies on piles of yards
of gingham, taffeta, and silk
your dry hungry mouths cry for your milk.

V]

[woman:] dear what have you done?
your are town, your make-up runs.

[daughter:] i ran brambles, blooming thistle
i washed my face in the when you whistled me on.

[woman:] darling dear, hav eyou done?
your and face are smeared with blood.

[daughter:] the chaplain and called me out
to and to butcher his mother's sow

but darling dear, they found him dead
this on the riverbed.

but now darling, don't you cry.
your reward's in the by-and -by.
hush now baby, you cry.
reward's in the sweet by-and-by.

[crone:] and now we've seen your
softly stretch the
a fickle little twister
are you sweet on your
as now you go home.