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

Phil
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 rest 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 thunder in the bay, the morning.
But the boy on the shore is throwing pebbles no more, he a-warning
the the marines have 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 troops land and step the sand, the flags are weaving.
The marines have landed on the shores of Domingo.
The unsmiling sun is shining down upon the soldiers
In the dust whirl they whistle at the girls, they're getting bolder
The old women sigh, think of memories gone by, they shrug shoulders.
The marines have landed on the shores of Domingo.
Ready for the tricks, their are fixed, now they are rolling
And the make tracks past the trembling shacks where fear's unfolding
All the young wives afraid, turn backs to the parade with babes they're holding
The marines have on the shores of Santo Domingo
A bullet cracks the sound, the army hit the ground, the callin'
So they open their guns, a thousand to one, no sense in
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 to stare, the heat is leaning
And the eyes of the dead are turning head to the widows screaming
But the soldiers make a bid, giving candy to the kids, their teeth are
The marines have landed on the of Santo Domingo
Up and down the coast, the drink a toast, the wheel is spinning
And the cowards and the whores are peeking through the doors to see winning
But the will pretend that it's getting near the end, when it's beginning
The marines have landed on the shores of Domingo
And the crabs are crazy, they scuttle and forth, the sand is burning
And the fish flight and scatter from the sight, their courses turning
As the seagulls on the cold cannon nest, the sea is churning
The have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo