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

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