🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: Hands Of Gold - Peter Hollens

 He rode through the  of the city
  from his hill on high
 O' er the winds and the steps  the cobble
 He  to woman's sigh
 For she  his secret treasure
 She was his  and his bliss
 And a  and a keep are nothing
  to a woman's kiss
 
 For  hands of gold are always cold
 But a woman's  are warm
 For a hands  gold are always cold
 But a  hands are warm
 
 And there he stood with sword  hand
  last of Darry's ten
 And  the grass beneath his feet
 And red  banners bright
 And red  glow of setting sun
 That  him in its light
 "Come on, come  the great lord called
 "My sword is  still"
 
 And with a cry of savage 
 They swarmed  the rill
 And with a  of savage rage
  swarmed across the rill
 
 He rode  the streets of the city
 Down from  hill on high
 O' er the winds and the  and the cobble
 He rode to woman's 
 For she was his secret 
  was his shame and his bliss
 And a chain  a keep are nothing
 Compared to a  kiss
 
 For a hands of gold  always cold
 But  woman's hands are warm
 For a hands of gold are always 
 But a woman's hands are 
 For a hands of gold  always cold
 But  woman's hands are warm
 For a  of gold are always cold
 But a woman's hands  warm