Luyện nghe bài hát The Irish Rover

On the fourth of July,
We set sail from the sweet of Cork
We were sailing away, a cargo of bricks
For the grand Hall in New York

T'was a wonderful craft, she was rigged and aft
And oh, how the wild drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven
And called her the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best rags
We had two barrels of stone
We had million sides of old blind horses' hides
We had four barrels of bone

We had million hogs, six million dogs
Seven million barrels of
We had million bales, of old nanny gold tails
In the of the Irish Rover

was old Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
When the lined up for a set
He was tooting with skill, for each quadrille
the dancers were fluther'd and bet

With his smart, witty talk, he was cock of the
He rolled the under and over
They all knew at a glance, when he up his stance
he sailed on the Irish Rover

There was McGee from the banks of the Lee
was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was McGurk, who was scared stiff of work
And your man from the Meath called Malone

The was slugger O'Toole, who was as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracey from
And your man Mick McCann, the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Rover

We had sailed seven years, when the broke out
And the lost its way in the fog
And whale of a crew, was reduced down to two
Just myself and the old dog

And the ship struck a rock, oh Lord, a shock
The was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the old dog was drowned
And to the Irish Rover