Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Cafe

At Notre Dame the are prepared!

At rue de Bac they're at the leash!

Students, workers,
a river on the run
Like the flowing of the
Paris to our side!

The is near
So near it's stirring the in their veins!
And yet
Don't let the go to your brains!
For the we fight is a dangerous foe
With the men and the arms that we can match
It is easy to sit and swat 'em like flies
But the national guard will be to catch.
We a sign
To rally the
To them to arms
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 like a to me
One minute there, she was gone!

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

It is for us all
To who we are
Do we fight for the
To a night at the now?
you asked of yourselves
What's the price you might
Is it simply a
For rich young boys to
The of the world
Is day by day...

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

Had you been today
You know how it feels
To be struck to the
In a moment of delight!
Had you been today
You might also known
How the world may be
In one burst of light!
And what was right 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, you're no a child
I do not doubt you it well
But now there is a call.
Who about your lonely soul?
We toward a larger goal
Our little don't count at all!

ALL
Red - the of angry men!
- the dark of ages past!
Red - a world to dawn!
Black - the night ends at last!

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

Give me on my breath
And I'll breathe 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 rounds for man!

to me!

JEAN
Double that in St. Cloud!

everybody!

Seven in St. Martin!

General is dead!

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

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