Luyện nghe bài hát Green Fields Of France

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

I see by your gravestone you were 19,
You joined the great in 1916.
Well I hope you died quick, and I you died clean.
Willy McBride, was it and obscene?

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

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

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

Now Willy McBride, I help wondering why
Do those who lie know why they died.
Did really believe when they answered the cause,
Did really believe that this war would end wars?

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

Did the pipes the flowers of the forest?