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

I

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

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

II

husband: damn your and eyes wide
from you to your ponytails too.
king of the and the m-5
charlemagne in a motorcade too.

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

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

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

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

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

III

soldier: they settled dust in your
to watch you and shout 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 lift his and lariat.

here com his hounds
to me down.

chorus of blow me down.

soldier: on stretch of ground
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

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

soldier: here com his hounds
to me down.

of waifs: blow me down.

soldier: on this stretch of
lay me down.

chorus of lay me down.

to sleep.

IV

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

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

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

the dawn commes to greet 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 room that you lie in is dusty and
sleeping babies on piles of yards
of gingham, taffeta, cotton and
your dry hungry mouths cry for mother's milk.

V

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

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

woman: darling dear, what hav done?
hands and face are smeared with blood.

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

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

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

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