Luyện nghe bài hát James Connolly

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

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

Jem yells out, "Oh Citizens, this system 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 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, give up your dreams
Of a Republic for the class, economic liberty

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 is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die

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

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

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

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

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

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

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