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

Well in the merry of June,
From my home I started, the girls of Tuam,
Nearly broken hearted, father dear,
Kissed me mother, Drank a pint 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 rocky 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.

Now in Mullingar night,
I limbs so weary, Started by daylight,
mornin' bright and early, Took a drop of the pure,
To keep me heart from sinkin', Now that's the cure,
Whene'er on for drinking. To see the lasses smile,
Laughing all the while, At my style,
'Twould set your heart a bubblin'. me was I was hired,
I required, 'Til I was almost tired,
Of the rocky 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.

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

And there 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 cabin for Paddy, Down among the pigs
Played some funny rigs, Danced some jigs,
The round me bubblin', Off to Holyhead,
I wished meself was dead, far instead,
On the road to Dublin.

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

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

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