Luyện nghe bài hát Winds of the Old Days

The adrift in a foreign land
Singing on issues humble and grand
A decade flew her and there on the page
She read that the prince had to the stage

Hovering treacherous water
A saw her drifting and caught her
Unguarded flying too far
Memories tumbling like from a jar

And take me to the harbor now
Grapes of the are low on the bough
Ghosts of my will follow me there
And the winds of the old will blow through my hair

Breath on an undying
It doesn't take much to
eloquent songs from the good old days
That set us to with banners ablaze

But reporters, there's no sense in
Our son's been denying
The truths are wrapped in a mystery
The sixties are over, so set him

And take me down to the now
of the summer are low on the bough
Ghosts of my will follow me there
And the winds of the old days will blow my hair

Why do I sit the judge?
Years of self-righteousness will not
Singer or savior, it was his to
Which of us knows was his to lose?

Because are best when they're made of stone
A savior's a nuisance to with at home
often fall, heroes go unsung
And most certainly die too young

So you for writing the best songs
you for righting a few wrongs
You're a gift on a wayward bus
But you stepped and you sang to us

And get you to the harbor now
Most of the sour grapes are gone the bough
Ghosts of Johanna will you there
And the winds of the old days blow through your hair