Luyện nghe bài hát Black 47

Everything is not a chicken not a body
Just an awful sicken roarin' in my brain
And the fog of death deepens and lies the land
An ould wan over on her back
The grass still green upon her chin
I can still hear her keenin' and in the wind

God's curse upon you, Lord John
May black hearted soul rot in hell
There's no left on earth and God is dead in heaven
In dark and deadly days of Black 47

curse upon you, Lord Trevalian
May great Queen Victoria rot in hell
'Til England and its empire before heaven
For the they committed in Black 47

says "Come on now
Don't back, she's not livin', she's a phantom
And she'll curse us if we look her eyes"

Oh God, I think I'm dyin' the fever's in my
For can't you see that pack of children up
The of old men sproutin' from their chins
Can't you their screams of hunger on the wind?

God's curse upon you, Lord John
May your black hearted rot in hell
There's no left on earth and God is dead in heaven
In these and deadly days of Black 47

God's upon you, Lord Trevalian
May your great Queen Victoria rot in
'Til England and its answer under heaven
For the they committed in Black 47

Darlin' Paudie save me, I think I'm sinkin' fast, me is boilin'
Don't let me die in a ditch
If the doesn't get me the fever surely will

Paudie took me up and me across his shoulders
He nursed me every day 'til we Amerikay
Screamin' and shoutin' like two madmen at the

God's curse you, Lord John Russell
May your black soul rot in hell
There's no love left on earth, God is dead in
In the dark and days of Black 47

God's upon you, Lord Trevalian
May your great Victoria rot in hell
'Til England and its empire under heaven
For the crimes they committed in 47