Luyện nghe bài hát In The Wee Small Hours of Sixpence

(brooker / reid) *

In the wee small hours of
And the chandelier
a rusty old retainer
Whose old eyes are with tears
For his master, sir galant,
Who is now off to the
And although his are crying
We know grief is not the
And if is not the reason
He be of sterner stuff
And his though old and rusty
Must be blunt as sharp

In the wee hours of sixpence
And the broken window
Stand the of the evening
Who are all in vain
For the of the cockerel
Showing is not night
But the air is filled silence
And the is not bright
But still darkness is no
We are men of stuff
And our swords though old and
Still are as sharp enough.

In the wee small hours of
And the in the hall
Waiting only for the
Shadows flitting 'cross the
And perhaps old retainer
now giving of his all
May have once been as we are
And now has no at all.
But still grief was not the
He was of sterner stuff
And his sword old and rusty
Still was as sharp enough.