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 with a no
man from Massachusetts
who from too much whiskey
and me these three faces to feed.

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

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

Now my mind begins to
to the back on the farm.
I can see my smilin'
and me on his arm.

I can hear my granddad's
of the out on Lake Erie,
where and cargos
and fortunes and sailor's were lost.

Yeah, but my life that's been wasted.
And I been the fool
to let manufacture
use my for a tool.
As I ride home in the
I'm at my hands,
by my sorrow
that a young girl ought to a better chance.

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

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