Luyện nghe bài hát The Mouth Of Judas

I am cut from the cloth of
And seen his face in mine
The weathered hands turn the pages
Are in the sun
My has the blackest sails
Yet no wind to drive like

You cannot see from
That it no shadow upon the wave
The crawl with us
Over land and see they
Deadened hands the rudder
on the gale

They will dash you the cliffs
'Til every brittle is broken
rip and gristled knuckle
Is gnashing on the

I am cut from the cloth of
From the hand itself
The long stare of the
And the cursed of slaves

"And you who me to make
I do not exceed the span,
Given to me on earth I
Care old of a man
Dead God of all my own snake"

(Guillam Appolinaire, "Reply of the Zagur-Og Cossacks to the Sultan of Constantinople")

Free me from the hand
Free me from the hangman's
So bend your knee the majesty of death
You struggle for breath and lay the dead to

So bend knee before the majesty of death
You struggle for breath and lay the head to

So they stretch the womb to the grave
Let us you the first journey of men
The first murder, the so red and barren
It burns so red and