🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: The Dreaming Fields - Trisha Yearwood

 Oh, the sun rolls  big as a miracle
 And fades from  Midwest Sky
 And the corn and the trees  in the breeze
 As if to say 
 Oh, my grandfather stood right  as a younger man
 In nineteen  forty three
 And with the  and his tears, the rain and the years
 He grew life from the soil  seed
 
 Oh I'm goin'  to the dreaming fields
  what will be my harvest now
 Where every tear that  on a memory
 Feels like  on the rusted plow
 Rain on  rusted plow
 
 And these fields they dream of wheat in the 
  running free
  the bales of hay at the end of the day
 And the scarecrow that just  me
 
 Now  houses they grow like weeds in a flower bed
  morning the silo fell
 Seems  only way a man can live off the land these days
  to buy and sell
 
 So  goin' down to the dreaming fields
 But what will be my harvest 
 Where every tear that  on a memory
 Feels like rain on  rusted plow
 Rain  the rusted plow
 
 Like the rain on  roof on the porch by the kitchen
 Where as my grandmother  I can hear if I listen
 Running down, running down to  end of the world I loved
 This will be  harvest now
 
 And the sun rolls  big as a miracle
  fades in the Midwest sky
 And the corn and the  wave in the breeze
  if to say goodbye
 As  to say goodbye