Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

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

Day Two
Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to your lovely present of two turtle doves
You are too kind
At first the partridge was 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 are okay 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 Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We must be in your thoughts
I had only posted my when the three French hens arrived
There was another sort-out the hens and the doves,
Who sided the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again
The mother was raging because the was 16 this time
But she has almost down
However, the fact that the birds' droppings keep falling
On her whilen she's watching the telly, doesn't help matters
you for your kindness
I remain, your

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vet's 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
gold rings! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious
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 isn't that we don't your generosity
But the six geese not alone nearly murdered the calling birds
But laid their eggs on top of the vet's head
From the and his bill was 68 in cash!
My mother is munching 60 grains of a day
And talking to in a most alarming way
You must keep feelings for me in check

Day
Nuala,
We are not by your little joke
Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic 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 way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the living-room carpet Please lay off It is not fair

Day
Nuala,
Who the hell do you gave you the right to send eight,
maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home?
Their are all over the front lawn
And trampled the hell out of the mother's rose-beds
The swans invaded the in a sneak attack
And the ensuing between them and the calling birds,
Turtle doves, French hens and make the battle
Of the Somme seem like Wagon
The mother is on a bottle of a day, as well as the sixty grains of Valium
I'm very with you

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

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

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

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