Luyện nghe bài hát Slainte Mhath

Na na na na

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

Shuffling your memories, your doodles in margins
You scrawl out your poems a beermat or two
And when you declare the of grave creation
They turn and ask you to tell them the story so far
is the story so far, aaa aaa

And you listen with a in your eye
To their hopes and betrayals and only reply
Is Slainte

Princes in exile raisin' the standard
Paradin' their tired from old campaigns
Holdin' their own last commanding attention
And we sit here and to all of the story so far
This is the so far, aaa aaa aaa

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

From the dream on the barbed at Flanders and Bilston Glen
From the side that rusts from the tears of its broken men
From the realization that all been left behind
Is to stand like our before us in the firing line

on the whistle to blow
We stand here on the whistle to blow
They us miracles, and the whistle still blows
promises but the whistle still blows
Waiting on the to blow
We stand here on the whistle to blow