Luyện nghe bài hát The Emperor In His War-room

i. THE
Standing in the space holds the silent lace of night
from you
You think that you can the searing, moulten gold between
fingers ...
But it slips through, tearing as it goes,
the white of a knuckle ...
flesh-and-metal letters in the mould.
Cradling you gun, choosing the ones you think should die-
Lying on the hill ... crawling over the into your

They stare out, glass-eyed heads,
torn by vultures ..
you are the man whose hands are with the smell of death.
Saviour of the Fallen, of the Weak,
Friend of the Ones, Keeper of the Peace ...
Ah, but it is the only way you .....
out to sea, a flattened plane of weeds which bear no living
You crush life in your fist as heart is kissed by the lips
of
Ghosts you, ghosts betray you, in the night they steal your eye
from its ...
and the hangs fallen on your cheek.
Complaining are stilled; a thousand mouths are filled
with metal.
Your face a shade of green; somehow you try to through all the
garbage in your
But it won't out, and you cannot frame the words
as stepson
your fame into the flames and you are burned.
of the Fallen, Protector of the Weak,
Friend of the Ones, Keeper of the Peace.
Ah, but it is the way you know ..........
ii. THE
by sword and you shall die so,
All power shall come to nought,
life you take is part of your own,
death, not power, is you've bought.
Cringing in your room as the outriders of doom
on threshold;
Begging for life as the impartial knife sinks in your
screaming ...
without malice, merely murder's toll,
you must pay the of hate, and that price is
your ....
Live in or die forever in your war-room.