Luyện nghe bài hát White Boots Marching in a Yellow Land

The pilot's playing poker in the cockpit of the
The casualties are rising like the of rain
And the mountain of machinery will before a man
When your white boots marching in a yellow

written in the ashes of the village towns we burn
It's written in the bed of the fathers unreturned
And the chocolate in the eyes will never understand
When you're white boots in a yellow land

Red, the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived, you must be
And the lost patrol chase chartered souls
Like cold whores following tired

Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your
And never turn your back if the battle the tide
For the colors of a civil war are than commands
When you're white boots marching in a land

Blow them from the forest and them from your sight
Tie their hands their back and question through the night
But when the firing squad is ready, they'll be spitting where stand
At the white marching in a yellow land

Red, the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived, you must be
And the patrol chase their chartered souls
Like cold whores following tired

The comic and the queen are dancing on the stage
Raw recruits are lining up coffins in a cage
fighting in a war, we lost before the war began
We're the white marching in a yellow land

And the lost patrol chase chartered souls
Like cold whores tired armies