Luyện nghe bài hát The Great Elsewhere

Talking, what's it good
nothing.
Wrestle, wrestle.
You can pin me to anything.

I saw you in the seaweed.
Thought I saw you in a flame.
I'll fill up the with the sound of your holy name.

Knowledge of the sea-ways, of how the water flows.
Whoever coined the phrase has had to brave the snow.
I climbed the to the top-sail and I peeked through the glass.
The curvature bisected by the wintry mast.

The upon my stomach, I call it my Flying V.
And time I show it, I can feel your eyes on me.
How many will surrender to the blunderbuss?
And, how must we sail before you show your face to us?

him out to the end of the pier.
"Don't come any closer," he cried, "I am
Of the man become if I lay my
Life down for a people that I don't even for."
to his face, I put my
Hand into his and I to tell him, "No,
I've his work upon the panes of cathedrals,
In the sweat of the workers and the of the seagulls."

My words were out by the sound
Of the and rowers, the ship as it ran aground
And from the came a thousand soldiers.
I went down on my with a spear in my shoulder.
About face, about face, I back
To the Victoria. I shiver the
Memory, of the island dwellers
And the of the Storyteller.