Luyện nghe bài hát James Connolly

Marchin' O'Connell Street with the Starry Plough on high
There goes the Citizen Army their fists raised in the sky
them is a mighty man with a mad rage in his eye
My name is James Connolly, I didn't here to die

But to for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too
Protect the proletariat from the and their screws
So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up dreams
Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic

Then Jem yells out, "Oh Citizens, this is a curse
An English boss is a monster, an Irish one even
They'll never lock us out and here's the reason why
My is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die"

But to for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too
the proletariat from the bosses and their screws
So hold on to rifles, boys, don't give up your dreams
Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic

And now we're in the GPO with the whizzin' by
With Pearse and Sean McDermott each other good-bye
Up steps our citizen leader and he out to the sky
My name is James Connolly, I come here to die

But to fight for the rights of the man, the small farmer too
Protect the from the bosses and their screws
So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't up your dreams
Of a Republic for the workin' class, liberty

Oh Lily, I don't to die
We've got so much to for
And I know we're out to get slaughtered
But I can't take any more

Just the sight of one more child screamin' from hunger in a Dublin
Or his mother slavin' 14 hours a day for the scum, who her
And take her youth and throw it on a floor?
Oh Lily, I just can't any more

They've locked us out, they've our unions
They even their animals better than us
Oh no, far better to die like a man on your feet
Than to live forever like slave, on your knees, Lily

But don't let them wrap any green around me
And for God's sake, don't let bury me
In some full of harps and shamrocks
And whatever you do, don't let them make a out of me
Oh no, rather raise the Starry Plough on high, a song of freedom
Here's to you, Lily, the rights of man and international

We fought them to a standstill while the lit up the sky
'Til a bullet our leader and we gave up the fight
They shot him in Kilmainham but they'll never stop his cry
My name is James Connolly, I didn't come to die

But to fight for the of the working man, the small farmer too
Protect the proletariat from the bosses and screws
So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up your
Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic liberty, economic