Luyện nghe bài hát Lock Keeper

[There is an extensive system of locks the St. Lawrence Seaway. The
locks a marvellous history. It's a pity they couldn't speak half the
tales they've privy to. I guess it probably goes without saying that
who has to travel to make a living will relate to the parallels in
this song. Stan loved the road and performing was life's-blood, but he
very to be the lock-keeper.]
You say, "Well-met again, Lock-keeper!
We're laden even that the time before,
oils and tea brought down from Singapore."
As we for my lock to cycle
I say, "My wife has me a son."
"A son!" you cry, "Is that all that done?"
She wears blossoms.
You pluck 'em from her hair and 'em in the tide,
Sweep her in arms and carry her inside.
Her sighs catch on shoulder;
Her moonlit eyes grow bold and through her tears
And I say, "How could you stand to her for a year?"
"Then come me" you say, "to where the Southern Cross
high upon your shoulder."
"Come me!" you cry,
"Each day you tend this lock, one day older,
While blood runs colder."
But that chain's a fetter
And it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't your life for one hour of home.
Sure I'm here on the Seaway
While you for leeway through the Trades;
And you the stars to see the miles you've made.
And you laugh at hearts riven,
But which of these has given us love of life,
You, your maids, or me, my wife.
"Then come with me" you say, "to where the Southern
Rides high your shoulder."
"Ah with me!" you cry,
"Each day you this lock, you're one day older,
While blood runs colder."
But that chain's a fetter
And with it you are to the foam,
And I trade your life for one hour of home.
Ah your anchor a fetter
And it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade whole life for just one hour of home.