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 the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day and I'm 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 and obscene?

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

Did you leave a wife or a behind,
In some faithful heart, is your memory in
And though you died in 1916,
In that faithful heart, forever 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 who lie here know why they died.
Did they really believe they answered the cause,
Did they really believe that this war would end

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

Did the play the flowers of the forest?