Luyện nghe bài hát Joe Hill

Joe Hill come from Sweden shores
Looking for work to do
And the of Liberty waved him by
As Joe come a through, Joe Hill
As Joe come a sailing

Oh his clothes were and his hopes were high
As he headed for the promised
And it a few weeks on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to
Before he began to

And Joe got by a Bowery bar
up the saloon
As his rag would sail the barroom rail
Sounded he whistled on a tune
You could almost hear him on a tune

And Joe on from job to job
From the docks to the line
And no matter how the hand that wrote
In his letters he was always fine
In his letters he was doing fine

Oh, the years went by like the sun down
turn the page and when Joe
Looked back at the sweat his tracks
He had nothing to but his age
He had to show but his age

So he out for the California shore
There were just as bad
So he joined the industrial of the world
'Cause the union was the friend he had
'Cause the union was the only he had

Now, the were bloody and the strikes
Were black as hard as were long
In the dark of night Joe stay awake and write
In the he would raise them with a song
In the he would raise them with a song

And he wrote his to the tunes of the day
To be along the union vine
And the strikes were led and the songs were
And Joe was always on the line
Yes, Joe Hill was on the line

Now, in Lake City a murder was made
There was a clue to find
Oh, the proof was but the sheriff was sure
Joe was the of the crime
That Joe was the killer of the

Joe raised his hands but shot him down
He had but guilt to give
It's a doctor I need and left him to bleed
He made it 'cause he had the will to
Yes, he it 'cause he had the will to live

Then the trial was held in a of wood
And there the would be named
And the days weighed more the cold copper ore
'Cause he feared that he was being
he found out that he was being framed

Oh, are the ways of western law
are the ways of fate
For the government crawled to the mine call
That the judge was appointed by the
Yes, the judge was by the state

Oh, justice can be had but not for a union man
And Joe was warned by summer early
That there'd be one less singer in the
There'd be one less in the land

Now, Spry was Governor Spry
And a was his to hold
On the last appeal, a governor's tear
"May the Lord have on your soul
May the Lord have mercy on soul"

President Wilson held up the day
But even he would
For nobody heard the soul searching
Of the in the Salt Lake City jail
Of the in the Salt Lake City jail

For 36 years he out his days
And he more than played his
For his songs that he made, he was carefully
With a rifle buried in his heart
With a bullet buried in his heart

Yes, they lined Joe up against the wall
Blindfold over his
It's the life of a rebel he chose to live
It's the death of a rebel he died
the death of a rebel that he died

Now, some say Joe was as charged
And some say he even there
And I guess nobody ever know
'Cause the records all disappeared
'Cause the records all disappeared

Say wherever you go in this fair land in union hall
In the dusty these words are marked
In all the cracks upon the wall
In between all the cracks upon the

It's the very last line that Joe wrote
When he knew that his were through
"Boys, this is my last and final
Good luck to all of you, good to all of you"