Luyện nghe bài hát The Jug of Punch

Jug Of
'Twas early, early, in the month of
I was with my glass and spoon.
A bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he was a jug of punch.

Toor-a-loora-la,
Toor-a-loora-la,
A small sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he was a jug of punch.

If I sick, and very bad
And not able to go or stand,
I would not it at all amiss
To pledge my for a jug of punch.

Toor-a-loora-la,
Toor-a-loora-la,
I not think it at all amiss
To pledge my for a jug of punch.

more diversion can a man desire
Than to sit him by a snug turf fire,
Upon his knee a wench
And upon his a jug of punch.

Toor-a-loora-la,
Toor-a-loora-la,
his knee a pretty wench
And upon his a jug of punch.

And when I'm and in my grave
No costly will I have,
I'll dig a both wide and deep
With a jug of punch at my and feet.