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

Well in the merry of June,
From my home I started, Left the of Tuam,
Nearly hearted, Saluted father dear,
Kissed me mother, Drank a pint of beer,
My and tears to smother, Then off to reap the corn,
And leave I was born, I cut a stout blackthorn,
To ghost and goblin, In a brand new pair of brogues,
Rattling the bogs, And frightened all the dogs,
On the rocky to Dublin.

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

Now in that night,
I rested so weary, Started by daylight,
Next mornin' bright and early, Took a of the pure,
To keep me from 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 your a bubblin'. Asked me was I was hired,
Wages I required, 'Til I was tired,
Of the road to Dublin.

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

in Dublin next arrived,
I thought it a pity, To be so soon 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 stick a wobblin'. for the rogue,
me Connacht brogue, Wasn't much in vogue,
On the road 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 never failin', Landed on the
Just as the ship was sailin'; at me roared,
Said no room had he, Then I jumped aboard,
A cabin found for Paddy, Down among the
Played some funny rigs, some hearty jigs,
The round me bubblin', Off to Holyhead,
I wished meself was dead, far instead,
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.

The of Liverpool,
When we landed, Called meself a fool;
I could no longer stand it; began to boil,
Temper I was losin', Poor old Erin's
began 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 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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