Luyện nghe bài hát The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend lives on the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her
When the skies of November turn
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons
the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
[Former version:] That ship and true was a bone to be chewed
[Latter version:] That good and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the of November came early

The ship was the pride of the side
Coming back from some in Wisconsin
As the big go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel
When left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then later that night when the ship's rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale
When the wave over the railing
And every man knew, as the did too
the witch of November come stealin'
The came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezing
In the of a hurricane west wind

suppertime came, the old cook came on deck
Saying, "Fellas, too rough to feed ya."
[Former At seven PM a main hatchway caved in
[Latter version:] At seven PM it grew dark, it was
He said, "Fellas, it's good to know ya."
The captain wired in he had comin' in
And the ship and crew was in peril
And later that when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund

anyone know where the love of God goes
When the turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more behind her
They might have up or they might have capsized
They may broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the
Of the and the sons and the daughters

Lake Huron rolls, Superior
In the rooms of her mansion
Old steams like a young man's dreams
The and bays are for sportsmen
And below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Erie can send her
And the boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November

[Former In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
[Latter version:] In a rustic old in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine
For each man on the Fitzgerald
The legend on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her
the gales of November come early