Luyện nghe bài hát The Parish Of Dunkeld

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