Luyện nghe bài hát Parish Of Dunkeld / Curlew

Oh, what a parish, a terrible
Oh, what a is that o' Dunkeld.
hangit their minister, droon'd their precentor,
Dang doun the steeple and the bell.

The steeple was doun but the kirk was staunin',
They a lum whaur the bell used to hang.
A stell-pat gat and they brewed Hielan' whisky;
On Sundays they it and ranted and sang.

O, had you but seen how it lookit,
To see the pews sae socially joined.
MacDonald the piper up in the poopit,
He the pipes skirl out the music divine.

Wi' whiskey and beer they'd curse and swear;
They'd argue and fecht ye daurna weel tell.
Bout Geordie and Charlie bothered fu' rarely
Wi' they're worse than the devil himsel'.

the hairt-cheerin' spirit had mounted their garret,
Tae a ball on the they a' did adjourn.
The maids wi' coats kilted, they and liltit,
When tired they shook and then hame did return.

If the kirks a' owre Scotland like social meetin's
Nae warnin' ye'd from a far-tinklin' bell,
For true and friends wad draw ye thegither
Far than roarin' the horrors o' hell.