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 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 keeping the pear-tree in a bucket
you again
Yours affectionately, 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 very
And suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the doves
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 and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We must be foremost in your
I had only posted my letter when the three French 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 because the bill was 16 this time
But she has cooled down
However, the fact that the droppings keep falling down
On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, help matters
Thanking you for your
I remain, your

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my last when you were sending us the four calling birds There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vet's bill was 32
The is on sedation as I write
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 stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious
However, I don't want to seem ungrateful for the rings
Your affectionate friend,

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

Day
Nuala,
We are not amused by your little
Seven swans-a-swimming is a romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house
We cannot use the bathroom now because they've gone savage
And the door every time we try to enter
If things go on this way, the 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 think gave you the to send eight,
Hefty here, to eat us out of house and home?
Their cattle are all over the front
And have trampled the hell out of the mother's
The swans invaded the in a sneak attack
And the ensuing battle between and the calling birds,
Turtle doves, hens and partridge make the battle
Of the Somme seem like Wagon
The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as as the sixty grains of Valium
I'm annoyed with you

Day
you looser!
There's enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight flaming 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 sent to torment us last
They were in their evil work by those 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 her third bottle 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 dancing to punk music on the front lawn but they've now joined by your friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping
And the antics of the whole lot of them would
The most decadent days of the Roman looking like Outlook
I'll get you yet, you bag!

Day
Listen head,
You have our lives
The twelve maidens dancing up last night
And the living daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking,
'Cause they found carrying on with 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 eight ambulances here 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, empty
And Valium bottles, blood and feathers,
the flaming cows eat the leaves off the pear-tree
I'm a man.