Luyện nghe bài hát The Green Fields of America (or Canada)

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

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

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

So pack up your sea stores now, it no longer
Ten a week isn't very bad pay
With no or tithe there to devour up your wages
on the green fields of Amerikay

The lint dams are and the looms are lying idle
Gone are the of baskets and creels
And away o'er the ocean, go cowboys
And fiddlers who out the old mountain reels

Ah, but I mind the when old Ireland was flourishing
And of her tradesmen did work for good pay
Ah, but since our have crossed the Atlantic
Well, now that I must follow onto Amerikay

And now to conclude and to finish my
If e'er a friendless should happen my way
the best in the house, I will greet him and welcome him
At home on the green fields of

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