Luyện nghe bài hát Scorched Earth

Just one moment while the dice are cast,
He looks the future and remembers what is past,
Wonders what he's on this battlefield,
to his shadow, impatient, too proud yet to kneel.

In his wake he leaves scorched and work in vain;
drifts up behind him - he is free again,
Free to run before the onslaught of a foe,
Leaving fit for pillage, hardly leaving home.
And it's far too late to turn, unless to stone.

Charging madly forward, across the snow,
Wind screams to him, ever on he goes
Leaving spoor to his passage, trace his weary climb.
Cross the and make the headland; stumbling, wayward, blind.
In the end his footprints as one single line.

This exponent of heresy is goaded into an attack,
to charge at his enemy.
Too late, he that it is, too late now to turn back,
Too by far to falter.
The pass uneasily at his rear,
He's right into the trap.
Surrounded, but striving through and fear.
Ahead of him he knows there waits an
But the dice slip through his
And he's from day to day,
Carrying his around upon his back,
nothing behind but the tell-tale of his track.

He not be hostage, he will not be slave,
No snare of past can him, though the future may.
he runs and burns behind him in advanced retreat;
Still his remains unfettered; he denies defeat.

It's far too to turn, unless it's to stone.
Leave the past to burn; at least that's his own.

Scorched earth, that's all that's when he's done;
Holding but beholden to no one
Claiming nothing, out of no pride, he survives.
Snow tracks are all that's to be seen
Of a man who entered the of a dream,
Claiming nothing but the life known
This, at least, has his own.