Luyện nghe bài hát The Parish Of Dunkeld

O, what a parish, a parish,
O, what a is that o' Dunkel',
They hangit minister, droon'd their precentor
doun the steeple, and fuddled the bell.
The steeple was doun, but the was still staunin',
They biggit a lum whaur the bell to hang,
A stellpat they gat and brewed Hieland whisky,
On Sundays they 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 pipes skirl out divine.
Wi' whisky and beer, curse and they'd swear
They'd argy and fecht what ye weel tell
'Bout Geordie and Cherlie they bothered fu'
Wi' whisky worse than the devil himsel'.
When the spirit had mounted their garret
To a ball on the green they a' did
Maids wi' coats kilted, steppit and liltit
When tired shook hands, and then hame did return.
If the kirks a'owre Scotland 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 roarin' the o' hell.