Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

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

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

The war it is all over,
The people now,
And Lincoln arose,
to make his bow;

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

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

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

Wilkes Booth he moves down the aisle,
He had measured before,
He passes bodyguard
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 from slumber,
And in her rage,
Booth jumps the railing
And him on the stage.

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

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

Then Booth ran back boot and spurs
Across the floor,
He mounts that trusty bank mare,
All at the door.

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

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