Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

John Wilkes came to Washington,
An actor was he,
He at Ford's Theater,
And went to see.

It was in April,
Not weeks ago,
The people of this fair
All at the show.

The war it is all over,
The people now,
And Abraham arose,
Arose to make his

The people him wildly,
Arising to feet,
And waving of his hand,
He calmly his seat.

And while he sees the go on,
His are running deep,
His darling wife, by his side,
Has fast asleep.

From the box hangs a flag,
not the Stars and Bars,
The flag that within its folds
Bright gleaming and stars.

John Wilkes Booth he down the aisle,
He had measured before,
He passes Lincoln's
at the door.

He holds a dagger in his hand,
A in his left,
He shoots Lincoln in the temple,
And he his soul to rest.

The wife awakes slumber,
And in her rage,
Booth jumps the railing
And him on the stage.

rue the day, he'll rue the hour,
As God him shall give,
When Booth in that center stage,
Crying, "Tyrants not live!"

The people all
cried everyone, "A hand!"
Cried all the near,
"For sake, save that man!"

Then ran back with boot and spurs
the backstage floor,
He mounts that clay bank mare,
All at the door.

Wilkes Booth, in his last play,
All dressed in deep,
He down the alleyway,
I hear those feet.

Lincoln then was heard to say,
And all has to rest,
"Of all the actors in town,
I Booth the best."