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

Farewell to the groves of and the shamrock
Farewell to the of old Ireland all 'round
And may their hearts be as as ever they could wish for
As far away the ocean I'm bound

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

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

So pack up your sea stores now, consider it no
Ten dollars a isn't very bad pay
With no taxes or tithe there to devour up your
Across on the fields of Amerikay

The lint dams are gone and the looms are idle
are the winders of baskets and creels
And o'er the ocean, go journeyman cowboys
And who play out the old mountain reels

Ah, but I the time when old Ireland was flourishing
And of her tradesmen did work for good pay
Ah, but since our manufacturers have the Atlantic
Well, it's now that I follow onto Amerikay

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

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