Luyện nghe bài hát Green Fields Of France

Well how do you do, Willy McBride,
Do you mind if I sit here by your graveside,
And rest for a while 'neath the warm sun,
I've walking all day and I'm nearly done.

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

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

Did you a wife or a sweetheart 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 stranger without a name,
Enclosed forever a glass pane.
In an old photograph, torn and and stained,
And to yellow in a brown yellow frame.

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

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

Did the pipes play the of the forest?