Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Cafe

At Dame the sections are prepared!

At rue de Bac straining at the leash!

Students, workers,
There's a on the run
the flowing of the tide
Paris to our side!

The is near
So near it's the blood in their veins!
And yet
let the wine go to your brains!
For the we fight is a dangerous foe
the men and the arms that we never can match
It is easy to sit here and swat 'em like
But the national guard be harder to catch.
We need a
To rally the
To call them to
To bring in line!

(Marius enters)

Marius, late.

And what's wrong
You as if you've seen a ghost.

Some and say what's going on!

A you say... a ghost maybe
She was just a ghost to me
One there, then she was gone!

I am agog!
I am aghast!
Is Marius in at last?
never heard him `ooh' and `aah'
You of battles to be won
And he comes like Don Ju-an
It's than an o-per-a!

It is for us all
To who we are
Do we for the right
To a at the opera now?
Have you of yourselves
What's the price you might
Is it simply a
For young boys to play?
The color of the
Is day by day...

Red - the blood of men!
- the dark of ages past!
Red - a about to dawn!
Black - the that ends at last!

Had you been there
You might know how it
To be struck to the
In a moment of delight!
Had you there today
You might also known
How the world may be
In one burst of light!
And was right seems wrong
And was wrong seems right!

Red...

I my soul on fire!

Black...

My if she's not there!

ALL
Red...

The of desire!

ALL
Black...

The of despair!

Marius, no longer a child
I do not doubt you it well
But now is a higher call.
Who cares about your soul?
We toward a larger goal
Our little lives don't at all!

ALL
Red - the of angry men!
Black - the dark of past!
Red - a about to dawn!
Black - the night that at last!

Well, Courfeyrac, do we all the guns?
Feuilly, Combeferre, our time is short.
Grantaire, put the down!
Do we have the guns we

Give me brandy on my
And breathe them all to death!

In St. Antoine they're us to a man!

In Notre they're tearing up the stones!

Twenty good as new!

(Gavroche in shouting)

Listen!

Twenty for every man!

to me!

JEAN
Double in Port St. Cloud!

everybody!

Seven in St. Martin!

General is dead!

is dead.
Lamarque! His is the hour of fate.
The man.
His is the sign we await!

On his funeral day will honor his name.
Light of rebellion ablaze in eyes
In the candles of weak we will our flame
To the of our march shall our barricade rise.
The is here!
Let us welcome it gladly courage and cheer
Let us take to the with no doubt in our hearts
With shout
They come one and all
will come when we call!