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

I

crone: here this pillow
made of and willow
you're a little twister
are you sweet on sister?
your phallo leave you alone.

and granted for their
possesions laid to
she's a salty 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
baby a new and shiny prize.

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

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

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

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

III

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

the lee of the wall
he comes in the chang and the
and all his eunuchs in
can scarce his line and lariat.

here com loose his
to me down.

chorus of waifs: 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 down
the mirror's soft silver
reflects our last and hour

here 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.

IV

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

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

the room that you lie in is and hard
soft 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, rise with clothes on
and advance with the others, singing old
of cattle and maidens and old queens.
let the music you on.

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.

V

woman: darling what have you done?
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, what hav eyou
your hands and are smeared with blood.

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

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

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

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