Luyện nghe bài hát Milworker

Now my was a sailor.
He in off the water.
My father was a
And I his daughter.

Took up a no good
Millworking man from
Who died from too whiskey
And leaves me these faces to feed.

Millwork ain't easy, millwork hard.
Millwork, it nothin'
But an awful, job.
I'm for a daydream
To me through the mornin';
Put me in my coffee
Where I can have a 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 begins to wander
To the days 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 lives lost.

Yeah, but it's, my has been wasted.
And I have been the
To let manufacture
Use my for a tool.
As I ride in the evenin'
I'm at my hands,
by my sorrow
That a young girl to stand a better chance.

Oh, but may I the mills
as long as I'm able,
And meet 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 rest of my . . . wasted.