Luyện nghe bài hát Black 47

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

God's curse upon you, John Russell
May your black soul rot in hell
no love left on earth and God is dead in heaven
In these dark and deadly of Black 47

God's curse upon you, Lord
May your Queen Victoria rot in hell
'Til England and its empire answer before
For the crimes they in Black 47

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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