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