Luyện nghe bài hát Winds of the Old Days

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

Hovering near treacherous
A friend saw her and caught her
Unguarded fantasies too far
Memories tumbling sweets from a jar

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

Breath on an ember
It doesn't take much to
Those 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 that are wrapped in a mystery
The sixties are over, so set him

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

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

Because idols are best they're made of stone
A savior's a nuisance to live at home
Stars often fall, heroes go
And martyrs certainly die too young

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

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