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

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

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

Or are you a stranger without 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 help wondering why
Do those who lie here know why died.
Did really believe when they answered the cause,
Did they really believe that this war 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 play the flowers of the forest?