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 mother badly on the hand
But they're good friends now and we're keeping the indoors in a bucket
you again
Yours affectionately, O'Lúnasa

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

Day
Nuala,
We must be in your thoughts
I had posted my letter when the three French hens arrived
There was another sort-out between the 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 cooled down
However, the fact that the birds' droppings keep down
On her hair whilen watching the telly, doesn't help matters
Thanking you for kindness
I remain, your

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us the 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 your close friend

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

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 alone nearly murdered the birds
But they laid their eggs on top of the head
the pear-tree and his bill was 68 in cash!
My mother is 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 amused by your little
Seven is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house
We cannot use the now because they've gone completely savage
And rush the every time we try to enter
If things go on this way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the living-room Please lay off It is not fair

Day
Nuala,
Who the hell do you think you the right to send eight,
Hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of and home?
Their cattle are all over the lawn
And have the hell out of the mother's 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 Somme like Wanderly Wagon
The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as well as the sixty grains of
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 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 piping
Which you to torment us last night
were aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers
And it wasn't a pleasant sight to out the window
And see eight hefty maids-a-milking around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar
My mother has just finished her bottle of whiskey,
On top of a hundred and twenty four grains of
get yours!
Gobnait

Day
You have 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 decadent days of the Roman looking like Outlook
get you yet, you loud bag!

Day
slurry head,
You ruined our lives
The twelve dancing turned up last night
And beat the living daylights out of the maids-a-milking,
'Cause they found them carrying on the eleven Lords-a-leaping
Meanwhile, the got out of the living-room,
Where they'd hiding since the big battle,
And savaged hell out of the Lords and all the
There were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as
The is in a home 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.