Luyện nghe bài hát Winds of the Old Days

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

near treacherous water
A friend saw her drifting and her
Unguarded flying too far
tumbling like sweets from a jar

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

Breath on an undying
It doesn't much to remember
Those eloquent from the good old days
That set us to marching with banners

But reporters, there's no in prying
Our son's been denying
The truths that are 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 history follow me there
And the winds of the old days blow through my hair

Why do I sit the judge?
Years of self-righteousness 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 a nuisance to live with at home
Stars often fall, go unsung
And most certainly die too young

So you for writing the best songs
Thank you for a few wrongs
You're a savage gift on a bus
But you down and you sang to us

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