Luyện nghe bài hát Lannigan's Ball

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

Saint Patrick was a
He from descent people
He a church in Dublin town
And on it he put a
The Wicklow hills are very
And so is the hill of sir
But there's a much higher still
Much than them both sir
On top of this hill
St Patrick preached a
Drove the frogs into the
And he vanished all the
not a mile of Eireann's Isle
Where dirty vermin
There he put his forefoot
And murdered in clusters
The went hop and the toads went pop
into the water
The snakes committed
To save themselves slaughter
900,000 reptiles
He charmed sweet discourses
Dined on them in
On soups and courses
worms crawling in the grass
Disgusted all the
down to hell with a holy spell
He changed situation
Was I but so
To be in home in Munster
I'd be bound that that ground
I never more would stir
There St Patrick planted
and praties
Pigs galore, mo gr, mo
boys and ladies

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

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

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

You've heard of St. Guinness of France, he never had a pulpit to on
You've of St. George and his lance, he killed the old heathenous dragon
The saints of the Welshmen and Scots they're a couple of pitiful
They as well go to pot when compared to the patron of vipers!

St. was a gentleman
He came from people
He built a in Dublin town
And on it he put a
The Wicklow hills are very
And so is the hill of sir
But there's a hill higher still
higher than them both sir
On top of high hill
St Patrick preached a
Drove the into the bogs
And he vanished all the
There's not a mile of Isle
Where dirty musters
There he put his dear
And them in clusters
The went hop and the toads went pop
Slapdash the water
The snakes committed
To save themselves slaughter
900,000 blue
He charmed sweet discourses
Murdered them in
On and second courses

Boys oh boys 'tis then there was ructions, I got a belt from Phelim Mc
I to his introduction, kicked up a terrible hullabaloo.
Moloney the 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