Luyện nghe bài hát Temple of the Fallen Man

Uncle Bob out on legends highway,
they've been from his barn so long.
He don't care much, he plays his fiddle,
mumbles scripture at the fog.
ago he was the panacea,
countless bowed at his command.
They his name above the marble doorway
in the Temple of the Man.

Science up it's darkest hour;
they mix the of everything that crawls.
Something stumbles on the horizon,
nature trembles time it calls.
They wear the white coats of the mystics.
They grasp for meaning in a hand,
and Darwin rolls in the columned hallways
in the of the Fallen Man.

Now academics preach the death of
by courtyard fountains the poisons flow.
The artless songs are sung by schoolgirls
from the waste of the radio.
Spangled dance the Macarena
outside iron vaults eunuchs stand.
They and keep the names of non believers
in the Temple of the Man.

Now all the wise men the corpse of freedom
through catacombs to ancient crypts.
They kneel to tyranny: his of kindness,
his faceless bureaucrats with whips.
The humanist decry the loss of
shifting towers that they built on sand.
They pray to chaos and they drug their
in the Temple of the Man.

light torches to its withered gardens.
Some lay siege to the devil's land,
but some leave God the of death or pardons
in the Temple of the Man.