Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

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

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

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

The cheer him wildly,
Arising to feet,
And Lincoln of his hand,
He takes his seat.

And he sees the play 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 that holds its folds
Bright stripes and stars.

John Booth he moves down the aisle,
He had measured 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 over the
And him on the stage.

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

The people all
Then 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 clay bank mare,
All at the door.

John Wilkes Booth, in his 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."