Luyện nghe bài hát North Country Blues

Come gather 'round,
And tell you a tale
Of when the red ore pits ran plenty
But the filled windows
And old men on the
Tell you now the whole town is empty

In the end of town
My own children are
But I was up on the other
In the wee hours of
My took sick
And I was brought up by my

The ore poured
As the passed the door
The drag lines an' the shovels was
one day my brother
Failed to come
The same as my before him

Well, a long wait
From the window I
My friends, they couldn't have been
And my was cut
As I quit in the
To marry John Thomas, a

Oh, the years again
And the givin' was
With the lunch buckets filled season
with three babies born
The was cut down
To a half a day's shift with no

Then the shaft was soon
And my work, it was cut
And the firing air, it felt
a man come to speak
And he said in one
That number eleven was

They complained in the
they are paying too high
They say your ore ain't worth digging
That it's much down
In American town
Where the miners almost for nothing

So the gates locked
And the red iron
And the smelled heavy from drinking
the sad, silent song
Made the hour twice as
As I for the sun to go sinking

I lived by the
As he talked to
This silence of tongues, it was
Then one wake
The bed, it was
And I's left with three children

The is gone
The turning cold
The stars, one by one, they're
My children go
As as they grow
Oh, ain't nothing here now to hold them