Luyện nghe bài hát The Fisherman's Song

By the storm-torn shoreline a is standing
The strung like jewels in her hair
And the sea tore the rocks near the landing
as it had known she stood there.

For she had come down to condemn that ocean
for the loss of her man,
His sailed out on Wednesday morning
And it's feared it's gone down all hands.

Oh and white were the
And wild was their
So is the warring of love,
But she prayed to the
Both of men and of
Not to cast cruel nets o'er her love.

There's a on the hill
Where the sons of dead
Are led tempests and gales,
Where God-given wings
Are clipped close to bodies,
And their eyes are bound-'round ships' sails.

What leads a man
To a life with danger
High on seas or a mile
when need is his master
And no stranger,
And there's no work to be found.