Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

Day One
Nuala,
Thank you very much for lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree
We're getting the hang of feeding the now,
Although it was difficult at first to win its
It bit the mother rather badly on the
But they're good now and we're keeping 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 your lovely present of two turtle 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 doves
We had to send for the vet but the birds are again
And the stitches are due to some out in a or two
The bill was 8 but the mother is over her annoyance now
And the doves and the are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We be foremost in your thoughts
I had only posted my when the three French hens arrived
There was another between the hens and the doves,
Who sided with the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for
The mother was because the bill was 16 this time
But she has almost down
However, the that the birds' droppings keep falling down
On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, help matters
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 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 and remain your close friend

Day
Nuala,
Your generosity no bounds
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 affectionate friend,

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

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 bathroom now because they've gone completely
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 living-room carpet 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 house and
cattle are all over the front lawn
And trampled the hell out of the mother's rose-beds
The swans the living-room in a sneak attack
And the ensuing battle between them and the birds,
Turtle doves, French hens and partridge the battle
Of the Somme seem Wanderly Wagon
The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as 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 alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling 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
you sent to torment us last night
They were aided in their evil work by those drummers
And it wasn't a pleasant to look out the window
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 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 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
get you yet, you loud bag!

Day
slurry head,
You have ruined our
The twelve maidens dancing turned up night
And beat the living daylights out of the maids-a-milking,
'Cause they found them 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
were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as well
The mother is in a for the bewildered
And I'm sitting here, up to my neck in birds' droppings, empty
And bottles, birds' blood and feathers,
While the flaming cows eat the off the pear-tree
I'm a man.