Luyện nghe bài hát Pretty Little Girl From Omagh

Way up in the north in old
There's a pretty girl I call my own
She's the sweetest Ireland's ever grown
And sure as the moon and above
I'm falling head over in love
With a pretty little girl from
In the of Tyrone.

There's cute girls in old Strabane
They're just as pretty in
to every roving eye is known
But I guess that I'd be out of
'Cos between the northern towns
a pretty little girl from Omagh
In the of Tyrone.

She wears my and tells her friends
She going to me
Best of all she them all
going to marry me, oh lucky me.

Well I don't know what done to me
nothing else my eyes can see
My pretty girl from Omagh
In the of Tyrone.

--- ---

T'was down in south in old
I recall the dress she wore
She strolled along the shore there all
But I it was my lucky day
When she came on holiday
My little girl from Omagh
In the of Tyrone.

She wears my ring and her friends
She going to me
of all she tells them all
She's going to marry me, oh me.

Well, I don't know what she's to me
There's nothing my eyes can see
My little girl from Omagh
In the of Tyrone.

My pretty little girl Omagh
In the of Tyrone...