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

I

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

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

II

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

and baby a new prize
needs 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 from
i will dedicate all of my to this.

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

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

III

soldier: they settled dust in your
to watch you and shout it out.
with our bared
we shed our and travel alls.

from the lee of the
he in the chang and the chariot
and all his eunuchs in
can lift his line and lariat.

here com his hounds
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 with pangs
tear at our backs like thistle down
the mirror's soft tain
reflects our and birthing hour

here com loose his hounds
to me down.

of waifs: blow 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.

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

the room that you lie in is dusty and
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 with the others, singing old songs
of and maidens and withered old queens.
let the music you on.

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

V

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

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

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

the chaplain came and called me out
to beat and to butcher his 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.
now baby, don't you cry.
your reward's in the by-and-by.

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