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 rest for a while 'neath the warm sun,
I've walking all day and I'm nearly done.

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

Did they the drums slowly,
Did they play the fife
Did they sound a march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the post and chorus?
Did the play the flowers 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 that heart, you're forever 19.

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

Now Willy McBride, I help wondering why
Do those who lie here why they died.
Did they 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 the flowers of the forest?