Luyện nghe bài hát Birmingham Sunday

Come by my side and I'll sing you a song
sing it so softly, it'll do no one wrong
On Sunday the blood ran like wine
And the choirs kept of freedom

That cold morning no eyes saw the sun
And Mae Collins, her number was one
At an old Baptist there was no need to run
And the choirs kept singing of

The clouds they grey and the autumn wind blew
And Denise brought the number to two
The falcon of death was a creature they
And the choirs kept singing of

The it was crowded, but no one could see
That Cynthia Wesley's dark number was
Her prayers and her feelings would you and me
And the kept singing of freedom

Young Carol entered the door
And the her killers had given was four
She for a blessing but asked for no more
And the choirs kept of freedom

On Birmingham Sunday a shook the ground
And all over the earth turned around
For no one a more cowardly sound
And the choirs kept singing of

The men in the they once asked of me
How many berries grew in the Blue Sea
I asked them right back with a in my eye
How many dark in the forest?

The Sunday has come and the has gone
And I do much more than to sing you a song
I'll it so softly, it'll do no one wrong
And the keep singing of freedom