Luyện nghe bài hát The Tain (Parts I, II, III, IV, V)

I

crone: here upon pillow
made of and willow
you're a little twister
are you sweet on sister?
phallo won't leave you alone.

and granted for their
laid to measure
she's a salty pisser
with cock in her kisser
but now she's a of her own.

II

husband: damn your ankles and wide
from you to your ponytails too.
of the insects and the m-5
over charlemagne in a too.

and baby needs a new
baby a new and shiny prize.

captain: in this place called
you were here.
this called heavenly
you born here.
you born here.

and now all the marchers descend from high
i will dedicate all of my to this.

and damn all the angles that my sight
i will bleed heart through a samovar soon.

captain: in this place heavenly
you were here.
this called heavenly
you born here.
you born here.

III

soldier: they settled in your hair
to watch you shake and it out.
our armaments bared
we our bags and travel alls.

from the lee of the
he comes in the and the chariot
and all his eunuchs in
can scarce his line and lariat.

com loose his hounds
to me down.

of waifs: blow me down.

soldier: on stretch of ground
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

chaplain: and now stricken pangs
tear at our backs like thistle down
the mirror's soft tain
reflects our and birthing hour

soldier: here com loose his
to me down.

of waifs: blow me down.

soldier: on this of ground
lay me down.

of waifs: lay me down.

to sleep.

IV

widow: o the is blowing, it hurts your skin
as you climb up hillside, and fen.

your arms of lullabies, orchids and wine
your memories wrapped paper and twine.

the room you lie in is dusty and hard
sleeping soft babies on of yards
of gingham, taffeta, cotton and
your dry mouths cry for your mother's milk.

when the dawn commes to you, you'll rise with clothes on
and advance the others, singing old songs
of and maidens and withered old queens.
let the carry you on.

the that you lie in is dusty and hard
soft babies on piles of yards
of gingham, taffeta, cotton and
dry hungry mouths cry for your mother's milk.

V

woman: darling dear what have you
your are town, your make-up runs.

i ran through brambles, blooming thistle
i washed my face in the river you whistled me on.

woman: dear, what hav eyou done?
your hands and face are with blood.

the chaplain came and called me out
to beat and to his mother's sow

woman: but darling dear, they found him
this on the riverbed.

but hush now darling, you cry.
your in the sweet by-and -by.
now baby, don't you cry.
your in the sweet by-and-by.

and now we've seen your powers
softly stretch the
a fickle little twister
are you sweet on your
as now you go home.