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,
been walking all day and I'm nearly done.

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

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

Did you leave a wife or a behind,
In faithful heart, is your memory in shrine?
And though you died in 1916,
In that faithful heart, you're 19.

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

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

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

Did the pipes play the flowers of the