Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

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

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

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

The people him wildly,
to their feet,
And waving of his hand,
He takes his seat.

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

the box there hangs a flag,
It's not the and Bars,
The that holds within its folds
Bright stripes and stars.

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

He a dagger in his right hand,
A in his left,
He shoots poor in the temple,
And he sends his to rest.

The awakes from 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 life give,
When stood in that center stage,
Crying, "Tyrants not live!"

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

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

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

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