Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

Day One
Nuala,
Thank you much for your lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree
We're the hang of feeding the partridge now,
Although it was difficult at first to win its
It bit the rather badly on the hand
But they're good 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 your lovely present 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 doves
We had to send for the vet but the are okay again
And the stitches are due to some out in a 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 be foremost in your thoughts
I had only posted my letter when the three French hens
was another sort-out 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 fact that the birds' droppings keep down
On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, help matters
Thanking you for your
I remain, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't received my last letter 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 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 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 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 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 herself in a alarming 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 but not in the bath of a private house
We cannot use the bathroom now they've gone completely savage
And rush the door every we try to enter
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 hell do you think you the right to send eight,
maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home?
Their cattle are all the front lawn
And have trampled the out of the mother's rose-beds
The swans invaded the living-room in a sneak
And the ensuing between them and the calling birds,
Turtle doves, French and partridge make 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 annoyed with you

Day
you looser!
There's enough pandemonium in this place night and day 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 warning you, making 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 aided in their evil work by those drummers
And it wasn't a sight 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 and twenty 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 been joined by friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping
And the antics of the whole lot of would leave
The most decadent of the Roman Empire looking like Outlook
I'll get you yet, you bag!

Day
slurry head,
You have our lives
The twelve maidens dancing up last night
And beat the living daylights out of the 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 and all the Maids
were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as well
The is in a home for the bewildered
And I'm here, up to my neck in birds' droppings, empty whiskey
And Valium bottles, blood and feathers,
While the flaming cows eat the leaves off the
I'm a man.