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 Massachusetts
who died too much whiskey
and me these three faces to feed.

ain't easy, millwork ain't hard.
Millwork, it nothin'
but an awful, job.
I'm for a daydream
to take me through the
Put me in my break
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 begins to
to the days on the farm.
I can see my father
and me on his arm.

I can my granddad's stories
of the out on Lake Erie,
vessels and cargos
and and sailor's lives were lost.

Yeah, but it's my life been wasted.
And I have been the
to let this
use my for a tool.
As I ride in the evenin'
I'm at my hands,
by my sorrow
that a young ought to stand a better chance.

Oh, but may I work the
just as as I'm able,
and meet 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 of my life . . . wasted.