Luyện nghe bài hát The Parish Of Dunkeld

O, a parish, a terrible parish,
O, what a is that o' Dunkel',
They their minister, droon'd their precentor
Dang the steeple, and fuddled the bell.
The was doun, but the Kirk was still staunin',
They biggit a lum whaur the bell to hang,
A stellpat gat and they brewed Hieland whisky,
On Sundays they drank it, and and sang.
O, had you but seen how it lookit
To see the cramm'd pews sae socially
Macdonald the piper stuck up in the
He made the pipes skirl out divine.
Wi' and beer, they'd curse and they'd swear
They'd and fecht what ye daurna weel tell
Geordie and Cherlie they bothered fu' rarely
Wi' whisky they're than the devil himsel'.
When the heart-cheerin' had mounted their garret
To a on the green they a' did adjourn
wi' coats kilted, they steppit and liltit
When tired they shook hands, and then did return.
If the a'owre Scotland held like social meetin's
Nae warning' ye'd need a far-tinklin' bell
For a true and friendship wad draw ye thegither
Far better than the horrors o' hell.