Luyện nghe bài hát Green Fields Of France

Well how do you do, young McBride,
Do you mind if I sit here by your graveside,
And for a while 'neath the warm summer sun,
I've walking all day and I'm nearly done.

I see by your you were only 19,
You joined the fallin' in 1916.
Well I you died quick, and I hope you died clean.
Willy McBride, was it slow and

Did beat the drums slowly,
Did they the fife lowly?
Did they sound a death march as they you down?
Did the band play the last post and
Did the pipes the flowers of the forest?

Did you leave a or a sweetheart behind,
In some faithful heart, is memory in shrine?
And though you back in 1916,
In that faithful heart, forever 19.

Or are you a stranger without a name,
Enclosed behind a glass pane.
In an old photograph, and battered and stained,
And faded to yellow in a brown frame.

Now Willy McBride, I can't wondering why
Do those who lie here why they died.
Did really believe when they answered the cause,
Did they really that this war would end wars?

But the sorrow, the sufferin', the glory, the
The and dying were all done in vain.
But, Willy McBride, it all again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Did the pipes play the of the forest?