Luyện nghe bài hát Cushie Butterfield

I'm a keelman
and I'm o'er in love
With a young from Gyetsid
And I call 'er my

Her Cushie Butterfield
And she sells clay
And 'er a muckman
And call him Tom Gray

She's a big
She's a bonny
And she her beer
And I call her Butterfield
And I wish she was

Her eyes is two holes
In a burnt through
And her breath in the
Would scare a coo

She wears big
And her once was white
And her bed it's lilac
And her hat's straight

Cushie

a broken hairted keel man and Aa's ower heed in luv
Wiv a young lass in Gyetsid an Aa hor me duv
Hor nyem's Cushie and she sells Yalla clay
And her cousin is a muckman and caall im Tom Gray.

She's a big lass an' a bonnie lass an' she likes hor beer
An they caall hor Cushie Butterfield an' aa she war heor

Her eyes are two holes in a blanket bornt throo,
An' her brows in a mornin wad a young coo;
An' when aw her shootin "will ye buy ony clay,"
Like a candy man's trumpet, it ma young hart away.

Ye'll oft see hor doon at Sangit the fresh harrin cims in,
She's like a bagfull o'saadust tied roond wiv a
She weers big galoshes tee, an' hor stockins was white,
An' hor bedgoon it's laelock, but hor nivver strite.

Whan Aa axed hor te marry us, she started te
"Noo, nyen o'yor tricks, for Aa like nee such chaff"
she started a' blubblin' an' roared like a bull,
An' the cheps on the Keel ses nowt but a fyeul.

She sez "The chep that me'll heh to work ivry day,
An when he cums at neets hell heh te gan an' seek clay;
An' when away seekin't aal myek balls an' sing'
Weel may the row that my laddies in !"

Noo, aw heer she hes chep, an' he hews at Shipcote'
If aw thowt she wad deceive me, sure cut me throat;
Aal doon the sailin, ansing "Aam afloat,"
addo te Cushy Butterfield an the chep at Shipcote.