Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

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

Day Two
Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two turtle doves
You really are too
At the partridge was very jealous
And suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the the doves arrived
We had to send for the vet but the birds are okay
And the are due to some 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 telly the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We be foremost in your thoughts
I had only posted my letter when the 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 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 matters
Thanking you for your
I remain, your

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling birds There was 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 close

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

Day Six
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us? It that we don't appreciate your generosity
But the six geese have not alone nearly murdered the calling
But laid their eggs on top of the vet's head
From the pear-tree and his 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
Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the of a private house
We cannot use the bathroom now because gone completely savage
And rush the door every time we try to
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,
maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home?
Their cattle are all over the front
And have trampled the hell out of the rose-beds
The invaded the living-room in a sneak attack
And the ensuing battle them and the calling birds,
doves, French hens and partridge make the battle
Of the seem like Wanderly Wagon
The mother is on a of whiskey a day, as well as the sixty grains of Valium
I'm annoyed with you

Day
you looser!
There's pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight 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 hope you'll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers
Which you sent to torment us night
They were aided in their evil work by maniac drummers
And it a pleasant sight to look out the window
And see eight hefty pogo-ing around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar
My mother has just finished her third of whiskey,
On top of a hundred and four grains of Valium
get yours!
Gobnait

Day
You have scandalized my mother, you Jezebel,
It was bad enough to have eight maids-a-milking to punk music on the front lawn but they've now been joined by your friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping
And the of the whole lot of them would 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 turned up last night
And beat the daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking,
'Cause they found them carrying on with the Lords-a-leaping
Meanwhile, the got out of the living-room,
Where they'd been hiding the big battle,
And savaged hell out of the and all the Maids
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 in birds' droppings, empty whiskey
And Valium bottles, birds' and feathers,
While the flaming cows eat the leaves off the
I'm a man.