Luyện nghe bài hát The Crock Of Gold

We'll live out our on this dirty old street
Only we just can't compete
But in the of our younger days
We left our names, our

like the people before
When reached the distant shore
With their and their dance
And their dreams and sincere

All ghosts long gone, through old they stare
With their offspring staring at me for are still there
Dreams that are dead and lives not

Well, why did we write our
In these streets to show alive?
Alive, alive, alive,

Well, is my home and I'll never went to Roam
To on any sun swept distant shore
Well, it is that I was reared by forbearer's so
And I the songs that they all sang before

Well, any that's neared me
Has been repelled most
I'm a lover, God, I am foremost of all

A that's my call
Of high professional
But I'm afraid that do not know my trade at all

Well, if it's every years
Some small to me appears
Then the crock of gold will until

Until day to defend myself no more
Lay the shield of anger at my
And the of alcohol will stow away

Well, all people in our town
Are overworked and broken
Begging cheques but it's just not enough giving

Crying quietly, living so desperately
That something has to
This life living

Real life is a time line
And the excitement the short times
It will never measure up to TV sells as great

All the drunken jokes and
Exciting pubs they tell the
But the pats
Well, they just all that great

Well, if it's every years
Some relief to me appears
Then the crock of will wait

Until that day to defend myself no
Lay the shield of anger at my
And the sword of alcohol stow away, go

Well, I met a girl one
And enchantment fixed our
So we we would hold it for awhile

But she not love me
So inside me finally, I said, "It's not your
But I like love if only for a while"

Well, it's on and on seen
Yeah, that's how it's always
And how it be as ever on I go

Oh, but ever on I
Through all the banal until
Well, I some place
To me that like home

Well, and if every twenty years
Some small relief to me
Then the crock of will wait

Until that day to myself no more
Lay the shield of at my door
And the sword of will stow away

Well, and if it's twenty years
small relief to me appears
Then the crock of gold will

Until that day to defend no more
Lay the shield of anger at my
And the sword of alcohol will away