Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

John Wilkes 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 cheer him wildly,
Arising to feet,
And Lincoln of his hand,
He calmly his seat.

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

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

John Booth he moves down the aisle,
He had once before,
He passes bodyguard
at the door.

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

The wife 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 shall give,
When stood in that center stage,
Crying, "Tyrants not live!"

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

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

John Wilkes Booth, in his play,
All in broadcloth 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 loved the best."