Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

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

Day Two
Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely of two turtle doves
You really are too
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 birds are again
And the stitches are due to out in a week or two
The vet's was 8 but the mother is over her annoyance now
And the doves and the partridge are watching the from the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We must be foremost in your
I had only my letter when the three French hens arrived
There was sort-out between the hens and the doves,
Who sided with the partridge, and the vet had to be for again
The mother was raging because the bill was 16 this
But she has almost cooled
However, the fact that the birds' keep falling down
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 birds There was pandemonium in the pear-tree last night and the vet's bill was 32
The mother is on sedation as I
I know you meant no and remain your close friend

Day
Nuala,
Your knows no bounds
Five gold rings! When the parcel arrived I was scared that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious
However, I want to seem ungrateful for the beautiful rings
Your affectionate friend,

Day Six
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us? It isn't that we appreciate your generosity
But the six geese have not 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 of Valium a day
And talking to herself in a most way
You must keep your feelings for me in

Day
Nuala,
We are not by your little joke
Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private
We cannot use the now because they've gone completely savage
And the door every time we try to enter
If go on this 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 do you think gave you the right to send eight,
Hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of and home?
Their cattle are all the front lawn
And have trampled the hell out of the mother's
The swans invaded the living-room in a sneak
And the ensuing battle between them and the birds,
Turtle doves, French hens and partridge make the
Of the Somme seem like Wanderly
The mother is on a bottle of a day, as well 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 eight flaming maids-a-milking are my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in sight
I'm warning you, you're an enemy of me

Day Ten
manure-face,
I hope you'll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers
you sent to torment us last night
They were in their evil work by those maniac drummers
And it wasn't a pleasant sight to look out the
And see hefty maids-a-milking pogo-ing around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar
My mother has just finished her third 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 have 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 would
The most days of the Roman Empire looking like Outlook
I'll get you yet, you bag!

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