Luyện nghe bài hát Tain, Pts1 - 5

I]

[crone:] here upon pillow
made of reed and
you're a fickle twister
are you sweet on sister?
your fallow leave you alone.

and for their pleasure
possesions to measure
she's a little pisser
with your in her kisser
but now she's a of her own.

II]

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

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

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

[husband:] and now all the marchers from high
i dedicate 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.
this called heavenly
you were here.
you born here.

[PART

[soldier:] they settled in your hair
to watch you shake and it out.
with our bared
we shed our and travel alls.

from the lee of the
he comes in the chang and the
and all his eunuchs in
can scarce lift his and lariat.

com loose his hounds
to me down.

[chorus of waifs:] me down.

on this stretch of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

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

[soldier:] com loose his hounds
to me down.

[chorus of waifs:] me down.

on this stretch of ground
lay me down.

[chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV]

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

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

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

when the dawn commes to greet you, rise with 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 soft babies on piles of
of gingham, taffeta, cotton and
your dry hungry mouths cry for your milk.

V]

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

i ran through brambles, blooming thistle
i washed my face in the river you whistled me on.

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

the chaplain came and called me out
to and to butcher his mother's sow

[woman:] but dear, they found him dead
morning on the riverbed.

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

[crone:] and now seen your powers
softly the hours
you're a fickle little
are you on your sister?
as now you go home.