Luyện nghe bài hát The Young Man

ALL on a Friday evening as the sun down
The body of a man who wore a thorn made
Was carried to a graveyard in the light
And with deep affection in a garden
Up on the the shadow of his gallows fell
And faded as the sun descended lower
The was worn and bare where many feet had trod
To watch the of the young man

And what of me, so distant from far, gone, place?
Still the of that moment crosses time and space
With mystery and none can explain
For it me to the story of the young man.

The day being Sabbath, was a day of rest
And one of some reflection for the man's friends
No messianic zeal consumed their hearts
Just sorrow for the killing of the man
Maybe some type of sound added
And I suppose some tears were shed 'til came last
Then rising early morning once the Sabbath
A woman made her way to find the garden
To her oil and flowers for the young man

Now history of heavy stone to bar the way
Was fixed by many soldiers on the grave
For when she it rolled aside and emptied tomb
She grieved the stolen body of the man
A gardener called her by her name as she kneeled
And asked her why she searched about the ground
And wiping bitter tears away the dawns first light
She saw the risen glory of the man.