Luyện nghe bài hát Tower Three

The of a thousand marching boots hammers on the air. They're
singing anthems, chanting oaths and whistle as Salome her skirt
because they're 'real' men and healthy, happy... own the
place. They raise hell when they're sober, wrestle tigers
they're drunk. In their living rooms a of the queen nestles
in between Miss August and a placard saying IS WHERE THE HEART
IS. (Keep it pure, keep it white. Keep it free of
because is so valuable and getting scarcer.). Fight! So they
march. Smashing windows, splashing slogans, petrol bombs
through 'til a uniform appears. Gently whisper in the ear of
the leader. "That's against the law but ignore it this time.
Peace got to be official!"
Keep it clean. it quiet. In a lonely moor the digger's working,
bigger hold more... And the patriots stay in as convoys rattle
down the street. No-one hears the weeping, no-one for the
cracks at dawn. The shovelling on and on and on. But the
patriots aren't cos they heard it on T.V. that a Golden Age
'round the corner. And day now...