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

I

crone: here upon this
made of and willow
a fickle little twister
are you on your sister?
your phallo leave you alone.

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

II

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

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

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

husband: and now all the marchers from high
i dedicate all of my awakenings to this.

and all the angles that opress my sight
i will your heart through a samovar soon.

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

III

soldier: they settled dust in hair
to you shake and shout it out.
our armaments bared
we shed our bags and alls.

the lee of the wall
he comes in the chang and the
and all his in thrall
can lift his line and lariat.

here com loose his
to me down.

chorus of blow me down.

soldier: on this stretch of
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

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

soldier: com loose his hounds
to me down.

chorus of waifs: me down.

soldier: on this of ground
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV

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

your arms full of lullabies, and wine
your wrapped within paper and twine.

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

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

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

V

woman: darling dear what you done?
your clothes are town, make-up runs.

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

darling dear, what hav eyou done?
your hands and face are smeared blood.

daughter: the came and called me out
to and to butcher his mother's sow

woman: but dear, they found him dead
morning on the riverbed.

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

crone: and now seen your powers
stretch the hours
you're a little twister
are you on your sister?
as now you go home.