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

I

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

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

II

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

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

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

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

and damn all the that opress my sight
i will bleed your heart through a soon.

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

III

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

the lee of the wall
he comes in the and the chariot
and all his in thrall
can scarce lift his and lariat.

here com loose his
to me down.

chorus of waifs: me down.

on this stretch of ground
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

chaplain: and now with pangs
that tear at our backs like thistle
the mirror's silver tain
reflects our last and birthing

soldier: here com his hounds
to me down.

chorus of waifs: me down.

soldier: on stretch of ground
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV

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

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

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

when the dawn commes to greet you, you'll rise with on
and advance the others, singing old songs
of cattle and maidens and 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
your dry hungry mouths cry for mother's milk.

V

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

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

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

daughter: the chaplain came and me out
to beat and to butcher his sow

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

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

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