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

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

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

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

Or are you a stranger even a name,
forever 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 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, McBride, it all happened again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Did the play the flowers of the forest?