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,
broken hearted, Saluted father dear,
Kissed me darlin' mother, Drank a of beer,
My grief and tears to smother, Then off to the corn,
And leave where I was born, I cut a blackthorn,
To ghost and goblin, In a brand new pair of brogues,
Rattling the bogs, And frightened all the dogs,
On the road to Dublin.

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

Now in that night,
I rested so weary, Started by daylight,
Next bright and early, Took a drop of the pure,
To keep me heart sinkin', Now that's the Paddy's cure,
he's on for drinking. To see the lasses smile,
Laughing all the while, At my style,
'Twould set heart a bubblin'. Asked me was I was hired,
Wages I required, 'Til I was tired,
Of 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.

When in next arrived,
I thought it such a pity, To be so deprived,
The view of that fine city. to take a stroll,
All among the quality, it was stolen,
In the neat locality; crossed my mind,
When I looked No bundle could I find,
Upon my a wobblin'. Enquirin' for the rogue,
Said me brogue, Wasn't much in vogue,
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.

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

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

The of Liverpool,
When we safely landed, meself a fool;
I no longer stand it; Blood began to boil,
Temper I was losin', Poor old isle
began abusin', "Hurrah me soul," says I,
My fly; Some Galway boys came by,
They saw I was a hobblin', With a hurray,
They in the affray?Soon we cleared the way,
For 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.
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