Luyện nghe bài hát Slainte Mhath

A held over a candle in angst-fuelled bravado
A carbon trail scores a moist palm
Trapped in the of another fine menu
And you sit there and ask me to tell you the so far
is the story so far

Shuffling memories dealing your doodles in margins
You scrawl out your poems across a or two
And when you declare the of grave creation
They turn round and ask you to tell them the so far

is the story so far

And you listen a tear in your eye
To their hopes and betrayals and your reply
Is slinte

Princes in exile the standard drambuie
Parading anecdotes tired from old campaigns
Holding their own last orders commanding
We sit and listen to all of the story so far

is the story so far

Take it away, take it away, it away, take me away

From the dreams on the barbed wire at and bilston glen
From a that rusts from the tears of it's broken men
the realisation that all we've been left behind
Is to stand like our fathers us in the firing line
on the whistle to blow, we stand here waiting
On the to blow
They promised us miracles, and the still blows
Broken promises, and the still blows
The whistle still