Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

John Booth came to Washington,
An actor was he,
He played at Theater,
And Lincoln 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 happy now,
And Abraham arose,
to make his bow;

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

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

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

John Booth he moves down the aisle,
He had once 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 sends his to rest.

The awakes from slumber,
And in her rage,
Booth jumps over the
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 all excited
Then everyone, "A hand!"
all the people near,
"For sake, save that man!"

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

Wilkes Booth, in his last play,
All dressed in deep,
He gallops 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."