Luyện nghe bài hát The Marines Have Landed On The Shores Of Santo Domingo

Phil
And the crabs are crazy, they scuttle back and forth, the sand is
And the fish take flight and scatter from the sight, their turning
As the seagulls rest on the cannon nest, the sea is churning.
The have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.
The fishermen sweat, they're pausing at their nets, the a-burning
As the warships sway and thunder in the bay, the morning.
But the boy on the shore is throwing no more, he runs a-warning
the the marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.
The streets are still, there's in the hills, the town is sleeping
And the farmers yawn in the silver dawn, the fields they're keeping
As the first land and step into the sand, the flags are weaving.
The marines landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.
The sun is shining down upon the singing soldiers
In the dust whirl they whistle at the girls, they're getting bolder
The old women sigh, think of memories gone by, shrug their shoulders.
The marines have landed on the of Santo Domingo.
Ready for the tricks, their bayonets are fixed, now are rolling
And the tanks make past the trembling shacks where fear's unfolding
All the young wives afraid, turn their backs to the parade with babes they're
The marines have on the shores of Santo Domingo
A bullet cracks the sound, the army hit the ground, the callin'
So open their guns, a thousand to one, no sense in stalling
He clutches at his head and on the edge, look now he's falling
The marines have landed on the of Santo Domingo
In the red plaza square, the crowds come to stare, the is leaning
And the eyes of the dead are turning every to the widows screaming
But the soldiers a bid, giving candy to the kids, their teeth are gleaming
The marines have landed on the shores of Santo
Up and down the coast, the generals drink a toast, the is spinning
And the cowards and the whores are peeking through the doors to see winning
But the traitors pretend that it's getting near the end, when it's beginning
The have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo
And the crabs are crazy, they scuttle and forth, the sand is burning
And the fish take and scatter from the sight, their courses turning
As the seagulls rest on the cold cannon nest, the sea is
The marines have landed on the of Santo Domingo