Luyện nghe bài hát ABC Cafe

At Notre Dame the 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
Don't let the wine go to brains!
For the army we is a dangerous foe
With the men and the arms that we never can
It is easy to sit and swat 'em like flies
But the national guard will be to catch.
We need a
To rally the
To them to arms
To them in line!

(Marius enters)

Marius, late.

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

Some and say what's going on!

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

I am agog!
I am aghast!
Is in love at last?
I've never heard him `ooh' and
You talk of to be won
And here he comes Don Ju-an
better 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
the price you might pay?
Is it simply a
For rich young to play?
The of the world
Is day by day...

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

Had you been today
You might know how it
To be struck to the
In a of breathless delight!
Had you there today
You also have 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, no longer a child
I do not you mean it well
But now there is a call.
Who about your lonely soul?
We strive toward a larger
Our little lives don't at all!

ALL
Red - the of angry men!
- the dark of ages past!
Red - a world 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 the guns we need?

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

In St. Antoine with us to a man!

In Notre they're tearing up the stones!

Twenty rifles as new!

(Gavroche in shouting)

Listen!

Twenty rounds for man!

to me!

JEAN
that in Port 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 day they will honor his name.
Light of ablaze in their eyes
In the candles of weak we will our flame
To the tune of our shall our barricade rise.
The is here!
Let us welcome it with courage and cheer
Let us take to the streets with no in our hearts
jubilant shout
They come one and all
They come when we call!