Luyện nghe bài hát Green Fields Of France

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

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

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 play the of the forest?

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

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

Now Willy McBride, I help wondering why
Do who lie here know why they died.
Did they really believe when they the cause,
Did they believe 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 flowers of the