Luyện nghe bài hát Birmingham Sunday

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

cold autumn 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 singing of freedom

The clouds they were grey and the wind blew
And Denise McNair the number to two
The falcon of death was a they knew
And the choirs kept singing of

The it was crowded, but no one could see
That Cynthia dark number was three
Her and her feelings would shame you and me
And the choirs kept singing of

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

On Birmingham Sunday a noise the ground
And people all over the earth around
For no one recalled a more cowardly
And the kept singing of freedom

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

The Sunday has come and the has gone
And I can't do more than to sing you a song
I'll sing it so softly, it'll do no one
And the choirs singing of freedom