Luyện nghe bài hát Lannigan's Ball

Lannigan's
(Traditional, arranged Neil Anderson/Kirk McLeod) (excerpt in from 'Delirium Tremens' by C. Moore)

Patrick was a Gentleman
He came descent people
He a church in Dublin town
And on it he put a
The Wicklow hills are high
And so is the hill of sir
But there's a hill much higher
higher than them both sir
On top of this high
St Patrick a sermon
Drove the frogs the bogs
And he vanished all the
There's not a of Eireann's Isle
Where dirty musters
There he put his dear
And murdered them in
The went hop and the toads went pop
Slapdash into the
The committed suicide
To save themselves slaughter
900,000 blue
He charmed with sweet
on them in Killaloe
On and second courses
Blind crawling in the grass
Disgusted all the
Right down to hell a holy spell
He changed their
Was I but so
To be in home in Munster
I'd be bound that from that
I never more would once
There St Patrick planted
Cabbages and
Pigs galore, mo gr, mo
Altar and ladies

In the town of Athy, one Jeremy battered away till he hadn't a shilling
His father died, made him a man again, him a farm and ten acres of ground
He threw a grand for friends and relations, hadn't forgot them when it came to the will
If you'll but listen I'll make your eyes at rousing, rusing at Lannigan's Ball

Six months I spent in Dublin, six long months doing nothing at all,
Six long months I spent in Dublin, learning to dance for ball.
Six long I spent in Dublin, six long months doing nothing at all,
Six months I spent in Dublin, learning to dance for Lannigan's ball.

There was lashings of drink for the ladies, pipes, tabaccy, brandy and tea
and Dolans and all the O'Gradys, courting the girls and dancing away
Well the boys were merry and the girls all dancing around in their couples and groups
An accident happened; Terence McCarthy; He put his through Miss Finnerty's hoops

You've heard of St. Guinness of France, he had a pulpit to brag on
heard of St. George and his lance, he killed the old heathenous dragon
The saints of the Welshmen and Scots they're a of pitiful pipers
They might as well go to pot compared to the patron of vipers!

St. was a gentleman
He from descent people
He built a in Dublin town
And on it he put a
The Wicklow hills are very
And so is the of Howth sir
But there's a much higher still
higher than them both sir
On top of this hill
St Patrick a sermon
Drove the frogs into the
And he vanished all the
There's not a of Eireann's Isle
Where dirty musters
he put his dear forefoot
And murdered in clusters
The went hop and the toads went pop
Slapdash into the
The snakes suicide
To themselves from slaughter
900,000 reptiles
He with sweet discourses
Murdered them in
On soups and courses

Boys oh boys 'tis then there was ructions, I got a from Phelim Mc Hugh
I replied to his introduction, kicked up a hullabaloo.
the piper was near gettin' strangled, pipes, bellows, regulator, changer and all
His Pipe and his they all got entangled and that put an end to Lannigan's ball