Luyện nghe bài hát Heavy Horses (Edited Version)

Iron-clad feather feet pounding the
On October's day, evening
Sweat embossed veins standing to the plough
Salt on a deep chest,

Last of the line at an day's toil
Turning the deep sod
Flint at the fetlock, the bone
at the nostrils plunder

The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the vie
the Shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the
To bed on a warm coating

Heavy horses, the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding
And now you're down to the few, and no work to do
The on its way

Let me find you a filly for your stallion seed
To the old line going
And we'll stand you at the back of the woods
Behind the young trees

To you from eyes that mock at your girth
Your eighteen hands at the
And one day when the oil have all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to colder

beg for your strength, your gentle power
Your noble grace and bearing
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the
In the wake of the plough, sharing

Heavy horses, the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, and sliding free
And now you're down to the few, and there's no to do
The on its way

Now the horses, move the land under me
the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free
And now you're down to the few, and there's no to do
The on its way

Now the heavy horses, move the under me
the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free