Luyện nghe bài hát Millworker

Now my was a sailor.
He in off the water.
My was a farmer
and I his daughter.

Took up a no good
millworking man from
who from too much whiskey
and leaves me these three to feed.

ain't easy, millwork ain't hard.
Millwork, it nothin'
but an awful, job.
I'm for a daydream
to take me the mornin';
Put me in my coffee
where I can a sandwhich and remember.

And it's me and my
for the of the mornin',
for the of the afternoon,
for the of my life.

Now my mind to wander
to the back on the farm.
I can see my father
and me on his arm.

I can hear my granddad's
of the storms out on Erie,
vessels and cargos
and fortunes and sailor's lives lost.

Yeah, but it's my life that's wasted.
And I have the fool
to let manufacture
use my for a tool.
As I home in the evenin'
I'm at my hands,
swearin' by my
that a young girl to stand a better chance.

Oh, but may I the mills
as long as I'm able,
and never the man
name is on the label.

Whoa, it's me and my
for the of the mornin',
for the of the afternoon,
for the of my life . . . wasted.