Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

Day One
Nuala,
Thank you very for your lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree
We're getting the of feeding the partridge now,
Although it was difficult at first to win its
It bit the rather badly on the hand
But they're good friends now and we're the pear-tree indoors in a bucket
you again
Yours affectionately, Gobnait

Day Two
Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two doves
You are too kind
At first the was very jealous
And suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the arrived
We had to send for the vet but the birds are again
And the are due to some out in a week or two
The vet's bill was 8 but the is over her annoyance now
And the doves and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We be foremost in your thoughts
I had only posted my letter when the three French hens
There was sort-out between the hens and the doves,
Who sided the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again
The mother was raging because the bill was 16 time
But she has cooled down
However, the that the birds' droppings keep falling down
On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, doesn't help
Thanking you for your
I remain, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling birds There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the bill was 32
The mother is on sedation as I
I know you meant no harm and remain your friend

Day
Nuala,
Your generosity knows no
Five gold rings! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is
However, I don't want to ungrateful for the beautiful rings
Your friend, Gobnait

Day Six
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us? It that we don't appreciate your generosity
But the six have not alone nearly murdered the calling birds
But they laid their eggs on top of the vet's
From the and his bill was 68 in cash!
My mother is munching 60 grains of a day
And to herself in a most alarming way
You must your feelings for me in check

Day
Nuala,
We are not amused by your joke
swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house
We cannot use the bathroom now because they've gone completely
And rush the door time we try to enter
If things go on this way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the carpet Please lay off It is not fair

Day
Nuala,
Who the hell do you think gave you the right to eight,
Hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and
Their cattle are all over the front
And have trampled the out of the mother's rose-beds
The swans invaded the living-room in a attack
And the battle between them and the calling birds,
Turtle doves, French and partridge make the battle
Of the Somme seem like Wanderly
The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as as the sixty grains of Valium
I'm very annoyed you

Day
you looser!
There's enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the flaming maids-a-milking are beating my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in sight
I'm you, you're making an enemy of me

Day Ten
manure-face,
I you'll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers piping
Which you to torment us last night
They aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers
And it wasn't a sight to look out the window
And see eight hefty maids-a-milking around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar
My mother has finished her third bottle of whiskey,
On top of a hundred and twenty grains of Valium
get yours!
Gobnait

Day
You scandalized my mother, you dirty Jezebel,
It was bad enough to eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but they've now been joined by your friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping
And the antics of the whole lot of them leave
The most decadent days of the Roman Empire looking Outlook
I'll get you yet, you bag!

Day
Listen head,
You have ruined our
The twelve maidens dancing up last night
And beat the daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking,
they found them carrying on with the eleven Lords-a-leaping
Meanwhile, the got out of the living-room,
Where they'd been since the big battle,
And savaged hell out of the and all the Maids
There were eight ambulances last night, and the local Civil Defence as well
The mother is in a home for the
And I'm sitting here, up to my neck in birds' droppings, whiskey
And Valium bottles, birds' and feathers,
While the flaming cows eat the leaves off the
I'm a man.