Luyện nghe bài hát North Country Blues

Come 'round, friends
And I'll tell you a
Of when the red iron ore ran plenty
But the cardboard 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 raised up on the
In the wee hours of
My mother sick
And I was brought up by my

The iron ore
As the years the door
The drag lines an' the shovels was
Till one day my
to come home
The same as my before him

Well, a long winter's
From the I watched
My friends, they couldn't have been
And my was cut
As I in the spring
To John Thomas, a miner

Oh, the years passed
And the was good
With the lunch filled every season
What three babies born
The work was cut
To a a day's shift with no reason

Then the was soon shut
And my work, it was cut
And the air, it felt frozen
Till a man to speak
And he said in one
That number was closin'

They in the East
That are paying too high
They say your ore ain't worth digging
That it's much down
In South American
the miners work almost for nothing

So the gates locked
And the red rotted
And the room smelled heavy drinking
the sad, silent song
Made the hour as long
As I for the sun to go sinking

I by the window
As he talked to
silence of tongues, it was building
Then one morning's
The bed, it was
And I's left alone three children

The is gone
The ground's cold
The stars, one by one, a-foldin'
My will go
As as they grow
Oh, there ain't nothing now to hold them