Luyện nghe bài hát Temple of the Fallen Man

Uncle Bob lives out on highway,
they've stealing from his barn so long.
He care much, he just plays his fiddle,
mumbles scripture at the fog.
ago he was the panacea,
countless heathens at his command.
They his name above the marble doorway
in the of the Fallen Man.

Science conjures up it's darkest
mix the seeds of everything that crawls.
Something stumbles on the horizon,
nature trembles time it calls.
They wear the white of the modern mystics.
They grasp for in a monkey's hand,
and rolls dice 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
the waste land of the radio.
Spangled dance the Macarena
outside iron where eunuchs stand.
They take and keep the of non believers
in the Temple of the Man.

Now all the wise men dragged the of freedom
down through to ancient crypts.
They kneel to tyranny: his of kindness,
his faceless with fiery whips.
The decry the loss of morals
from shifting towers that they on sand.
pray to chaos and they drug their children
in the Temple of the Man.

Some torches to its withered gardens.
Some would lay to the devil's land,
but some God the choice of death or pardons
in the of the Fallen Man.