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