Luyện nghe bài hát A Fistful O' Roses

Oh I've loved you from afar, borne you like a scar,
Sung name across the bloody Colfiorito,
But a poison took heart, you charmless little tart,
Now nary a jot o' bother at all for me-o,
This old has gone to bits, all the folk are off their tits,
Screamin', "Hoo-rah! Hurry the t'blazes!"
A right parade o' fools come to all o'er yer jewels,
Like a fistful o' half roses.

And here again, ho again, let the whisky flow again,
Let the blow again, sound away the knell,
Like a fistful o' roses, take 'em to the grave,
Every tale there is to tell.

Oh, this is a wreck, all up & down the deck,
a tired old sinner off her game,
Wi' her red lips, and her youth about her hips,
Still the regulars all her just the same,
Where the boots cut their way among the suits,
And the Sally's come to the can for Jesus,
they chain up all the doors & toss out all the whores,
Wi' a o' half dead roses.

May all the Autumn leaves turn to at yer feet,
And the high & come to know your thunder,
We could set the ablaze, but these are early days,
And there's still a hell of a for us tae wander,
And there's one here among outlive the rest,
a tipple to his foibles & his praises,
'Til they strike him off the & chuck him doon a hole,
Wi' a o' half dead roses.