Luyện nghe bài hát The Court of The Crimson King

The of the puppets
The rusted of prison moons
Are by the sun
I a road, horizons change
The begun

The purple plays his tune
The softly sing
Three lullabies in an ancient
For the court of the Crimson

The keeper of the city
Put on the dreams
I wait the pilgrim's door
With insufficient

The black chants, the funeral march
The cracked brass will ring
To summon back the fire
To the court of the Crimson

The gardener an evergreen
Whilst on a flower
I chase the wind of a prism
To taste the sweet and

The pattern juggler his hand
The begin
As slowly turns the grinding
In the court of the Crimson

On soft gray widows cry
The men share a joke
I run to grasp divining
To the hoax

The jester does not play
But gentle the strings
And smiles as the puppets
In the of the Crimson King