Luyện nghe bài hát The Rocky Road To Dublin/Kid On The Mountain

Well in the month of June,
From my I started, Left the girls of Tuam,
Nearly hearted, Saluted father dear,
Kissed me darlin' mother, Drank a of beer,
My grief and tears to smother, off to reap the corn,
And leave where I was born, I cut a blackthorn,
To banish ghost and goblin, In a new pair of brogues,
o'er the bogs, And frightened all the dogs,
On the road to Dublin.

One, two, three, five, Hunt the hare and turn her down
The road and all the ways to Dublin, Whack, fol lol de ra.

Now in that night,
I rested limbs so weary, by daylight,
mornin' bright and early, Took a drop of the pure,
To keep me from sinkin', Now that's the Paddy's cure,
Whene'er he's on for drinking. To see the smile,
all the while, At my curious style,
'Twould set your a bubblin'. Asked me was I was hired,
Wages I required, I was almost tired,
Of the road to Dublin.

One, two, three, five, Hunt the hare and turn her down
The rocky and all the ways to Dublin, Whack, fol lol de ra.

in Dublin next arrived,
I thought it such a pity, To be so deprived,
The view of that fine city. Decided to a stroll,
All the quality, Bundle it was stolen,
In the neat Something crossed my mind,
When I looked behind; No bundle I find,
my stick a wobblin'. Enquirin' for the rogue,
Said me Connacht brogue, much in vogue,
On the rocky to Dublin.

One, two, three, four five, Hunt the hare and turn her Down the rocky road,And all the to Dublin, Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.

And from I got away,
My spirit was failin', Landed on the quay
as the ship was sailin'; Captain at me roared,
Said that no room had he, Then I aboard,
A found for Paddy, Down among the pigs
Played funny rigs, Danced some hearty jigs,
The water me bubblin', Off to Holyhead,
I wished was dead, Better far instead,
On the road to Dublin.

One, two, three, four five, Hunt the and turn her Down the rocky road And all the ways to Dublin, Whack, fol lol de ra.

The of Liverpool,
When we landed, Called meself a fool;
I could no longer stand it; began to boil,
Temper I was losin', old Erin's isle
They abusin', "Hurrah me soul," says I,
My shillelagh fly; Some Galway boys by,
They saw I was a hobblin', With a hurray,
They joined in the affray?Soon we the way,
For the rocky to Dublin.

One, two, three, four five, Hunt the and turn her Down the rocky road And all the ways to Dublin, Whack, fol lol de ra.
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