Luyện nghe bài hát The Green Fields Of America

Farewell to the of shillelagh and the shamrock
to the girls of old Ireland all 'round
And may their hearts be as merry as ever they could for
As far away o'er the ocean I'm

My father is old and my mother's right
To their own country, it would grieve their heart sore
Oh, the tears down their cheeks, in floods they are rolling
To think that I must die upon some far and foreign

But what matter to me, where my bones may lie buried
If in and contentment I can spend my life
The green fields of Amerikay, they daily are
It's there I'll find an end to my and strife

So pack up your sea stores now, consider it no
Ten dollars a week very bad pay
With no taxes or there to devour up your wages
Across on the green fields of

The lint dams are gone and the looms are lying
Gone are the of baskets and creels
And away the ocean, go journeyman cowboys
And fiddlers who play out the old mountain

Ah, but I mind the time when old Ireland was
And most of her tradesmen did for good pay
Ah, but our manufacturers have crossed the Atlantic
Well, it's now that I must follow onto

And now to conclude and to my ditty
If e'er a friendless Irishman should my way
With the best in the house, I will greet him and him
At home on the fields of Amerikay

So up your sea stores now, consider it no longer
Ten dollars a week very bad pay
With no taxes or tithe there to up your wages
Across on the green of Amerikay